


WannaBee

by RavensDagger



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: All the Bad Words, Bees, Consequences, Exploration, Explosions, Gen, Hell, People in Hell Aren't Nice, Redemption, unintentional creepiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-01-23 00:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21311359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavensDagger/pseuds/RavensDagger
Summary: Every hotel needs a concierge. The Happy Hotel gets the strangest one in Hell.Taylor Hebert dies, and in doing so goes to Hell. Then Hell goes to Hell too.
Relationships: Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 213
Kudos: 710





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Another one.

Clack grit his teeth and resisted the urge to fling his typewriter at the nearest demotivational-poster covered wall. The last seventy-two odd hours had been a nightmare of newcomers. He, and every other wretch in the Infernal Reporting Services, had been working overtime to compensate for the absurd number of newly damned idiots dropping into hell.

It was as if Armageddon had arrived a few centuries early. And who did it fall on to file new paperwork and report on every last damned soul?

Clack adjusted his monocle, straightened his human leather jacket and made sure all the forms on his desk were nice and neat. The actions gave the clueless idiot at the door time to look around and position herself.

Or himself. Demons only knew what gender the damned were these days.

The figure at the door was taller than average but young looking all the same, with a pair of antenna that wiggled around atop her head. She was hunched in on herself and almost drowning in a dirty sweater that stopped at midthigh and whose hood covered everything but her multifaceted red eyes. She took in the entire room at a glance.

There wasn’t much to see.

Clack’s office was tidy. That was the best thing that could be said about it. The walls were exactly the right shade of grey to put someone to sleep. The floors were covered in intricate patterns of tile that were just a teeny tiny bit off. The ceiling hid neon lights that flickered just-so and hummed just out of most demon’s audible range. The office smelled exactly like one of those little pine-tree fresheners after it had been left hanging for a month and a half.

The only splash of colour was the Sin-O-Meter next to his desk, a large device with pipes and gauges and a few dials across its surface. Most prominent among these an analog display, nine numbers, all set to zero, below the bold and underline and stylized word Karma.

Clack stood up behind his desk and allowed a sinisterly welcome smile to cross his features. “Greetings, greetings,” he said before gesturing to the seat before him. “Please, have a seat.”

The girl looked at him, then at the seat, before carefully pulling out the plastic chair and sitting on it. “I was told to come here,” she said.

There was a buzz to her voice, something just on this side of wrong. He made a note of it before nodding to her. “Of course. This is the place to be to obtain your paperwork and register properly as a permanent citizen of hell.”

The girl nodded.

“Of course, by sitting down, you have agreed to a nonverbal non-consensual contract that allows me, my partners in the IRS, the state of the pentagram and all other associated groups to perform an audit of your person and estate at this and any future time in order to properly disclose of any abilities, knowledge, thoughts, and other such information as might be pertinent to any of the aforementioned groups and polities. This meeting is only a preliminary discourse in order to ascertain basic information before we proceed to a more enhanced interrogation. After all, there is no need for extraordinary rendition between friends, is there?” He pushed a single page forwards towards the girl, one covered in Summarian glyphs. “Please sign on the dotted line.”

Clack placed a pen before her.

The girl stared at the pen for a moment before looking back up to him and his almost genial smile. “I think I want a lawyer,” she said.

His smile widened. “Most excellent. I do love it when my clients are so bright,” he lied. “Now, let me fill out some basic information.” With a thump, he placed a stack of sheets before himself and pulled out a bloody quill from a drawer. “Name?”

“Taylor Hebert,” the girl said.

Clack shook his head. “No. I’m afraid not.”

“Pardon?” She tilted her head to one side, red eyes boring into him in a way that might have been unnerving if he was a particularly innocent child.

“That name was taken a grand total of sixteen times already. It is far too common. Pick another.”

She blinked, lids closing in from both sides. “But it is my name.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Take it up with those who have claimed it already. Or, we could argue all day. I am paid by the hour.” He gestured languidly with an arm towards the far wall.

A digital clock hung there, ticking up the time with another display under it, the words ‘Money Owed’ above it with a sum that was already in the low hundreds.

“I did not agree to pay you anything,” she said.

“So you didn’t. Don’t worry. There are ways to pay me off, debt bonds and the like. We’ll get to those in a moment. Name?”

He could see her mandibles twitching and for just the barest moment he had the impression that a few flies were zipping past the lights above. “Skitter.”

“Taken.”

“Weaver.”

“Mmm taken.” It wasn’t, but he did like watching the clients squirm until then ended up with a name like ‘fluffles.’

The girl’s sleeves squished as though she were balling her fists within. “Khepri,” she hissed.

Clack looked up, then around the room. The voice had sounded as if it came from everywhere at once, like a thousand buzzes and clicks combined just-so to spit out the name. “Still available,” he said before scrawling the name in the margins of the first form.

He made sure to misspell it. The fees to correct that alone would set someone back a few eternities.

“Now what?” she asked.

He gestured to the machine next to him. “Place your hand on the plate there. The Sin-O-Meter will weight the scale of your sins and give us an idea of what we’re dealing with here.”

The girl, Khepri, hesitated before a skeletally thin hand poked out of her sleeve and moved towards the machine. She paused before touching it. “Is this really hell?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes. He always got that question. Next would be wailing and gnashing of teeth and complaining about how she didn’t deserve it. “Yes, yes, you were a horrible person in your previous life, now you’re here. Place your hand on the scale.”

She placed her hand on the scale.

With a yank at a lever the machine got to work. Steam rose from its side, the cauldrons within bubbled, a noxious scent filled the room, the dials and gauges wiggled a little.

“And now the karmic display will give us a number to ascertain the evil you have committed,” he explained as he watched the display start to move.

“You can measure sin with a number?” she asked.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he admitted but didn’t add any more as the display started to click-click around, dials spinning as the ones, tens and hundreds markers whizzed by.

Clack felt an eyebrow rising as she hit the ten-thousands and didn’t show even the first hint of slowing down.

“Is that normal?” she asked.

“Hrm,” he said.

The corners of the room started to darken.

Clack watched as the hundreds-of-thousands dial began clicking up, then moved faster, and faster. Soon the millions dial was whirling around too. “Oh my, you must have been shooting babies to get this much sin in your soul.”

The silence was telling.

The ten-millions spun past, then the hundred millions.

Clack started to sweat a little. He noticed for the first time that the ceiling was no longer a plain grey, but rather a seething and growing mass of insects. Insects with many eyes focused on him. The girl had yet to move, hand still firmly on the plate.

The billion mark came and went. The dials kept spinning, the lower numbers so quickly that the rollers started to glow a dull red and sparks spat out from the mechanism. “P-participated in a genocide or two?” he asked with faux-joviality.

“No,” the room buzzed.

The ten-billions rolled past. Then the hundred billions ticker started to turn. Clack felt his bowels trembling as the numbers climbed faster and faster and faster and then...

999,999,999,999.

The machine clunked, spat, hissed, and stopped moving with a deathly squeal.

“Is that normal?” the girl asked.

Clack fumbled with his quill. “W-well, see, one or two million is quite normal. Um,” he said as he searched for words. Her eyes, so innocent and naive were boring into him now, pinning him in place like an insect on a board. “That’s what you’ll get for a murder, you see. Maybe some adultery, or being French.”

“And numbers in the trillions?” she asked. Her mouth didn’t move. It was the shadows talking. The shadows that were filled with millions and millions of bugs.

“Did you, maybe wipe out a few countries?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that his sins were laid at my feet?” she hissed. The room trembled. The walls darkened as their were swallowed by a sea of cockroaches. Clack sank into his seat and discovered to his dismay that the squishiness wasn’t plush cushions but writhing bugs.

“No?” he tried.

Khepri stood up, slowly and methodically, like a spider crawling out of a dead man’s eyehole. “I will be leaving now. Unless there is anything helpful you can tell me? I can hear the people in the next rooms over. Is all you do here swindle people into horrible contracts?”

Decades of lying warred with the urge to not be eaten by a billion bugs. “Yes?” he tried.

She sniffed.

He pressed the button built into the bottom of his desk.

The girl took a step to the side. The floor opened up revealing a pit lined with knives that lead into a chute. Khepri looked at him without any real expression.

Smiling, he stood up slowly, then walked behind the Sin-O-Meter and shoved it forwards. It fell down the hole with a clatter and bang. He gestured as if to say that that had been his goal the entire time.

“I’ll be leaving now,” the swarm said. It converged, uncountable bugs skittering and weaving through the air in a dense net that blinding him as it buzzed and hummed and filled the room like a plague.

Then it was over.

He was alone. The room was intact. The only sign of Khepri’s passing, his torn up forms and the missing Sin-O-Meter.

He was going to have to report this, he realized. And pay for the broken machine. “Fuck me sideways.”

***

A huge, huge thanks to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“Wow, you really hit the jackpot,” he said. “What’re you supposed to be? Some sort of...” he paused to let out a wonderful belch. “Road killed cockroach thing? Fuck you’re ugly.”

Husk was a simple... winged cat... whatever the fuck he was. He liked a good drink, the occasional game of chance, and maybe a bit of peace and quiet.

The Shitty Bar provided for all of his needs. It was, as the name hinted, rather on the poorer side of things, and the food, staff, service, and company all catered to a certain fecal-covered sort of clientele.

It was such a shitty dive that even the worst of Hell’s denizens avoided it. No Katie Killjoys or Angel Dusts or any other hoity-toity dipshits at The Shitty Bar. They had their own highbrow holes to get pissed at.

He wanted to be in those places, but he couldn’t afford it. Couldn’t afford it because his bookies were being a right bunch of dicks. His bet on the number of new souls to enter Hell should have been surefire, an absolute certainty.

But no, Apocalypse Right Now had to happen and he lost it big.

Which lead him to a crookedy (rather shitty) stool in the dankest corner of a bar with a tin roof and walls that stank of mold, alone except for half a pint of beer he’d stolen from some idiot that got shanked three tables over.

Mostly alone.

There was a girl next to his table. Tall, with little bug things on her head and red eyes that didn’t blink nearly enough for his liking. She was the subject of his current diatribe. “I mean, holy shit. Did some jungle rat bayonet your face?”

She blinked very slowly at him. “I’m just looking for directions,” she said with a sibilant voice that was just a bit off. “If you don’t want to help, just say so.”

“And why’re you askin’ me, huh?” He waved his drink at her and grinned when a splash of it nearly hit her. She stepped out of its path without breaking eye contact. She was a rather creepy bitch, he decided.

“All the others are unable to answer,” she said.

Husk looked past her and saw that she was rather correct. All the other fine patrons of The Shitty Bar were rather shitfaced. Sally the Slut was bent over backwards on a bench, legs spread and drool leaking down her opened mouth, Tom Thomson was in the opposite corner washing his machine gun out with a rag while his head nodded, heavy with sleep. Near the bar proper was a large wolf-like man with three others who shared some of his features. They were poking at the corpse of some little shit that hadn’t paid his tab.

The rest of the fine customers were all indisposed at the moment. “Well shit,” he muttered.

The girl gestured to the chair before him. “Can I sit?”

“No you fucking can’t,” he said before she had time to sit down and hog all of his peace. “Just ask your questions and piss off.”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “I guess I can’t expect any more than that,” she said. “Are we really in hell?”

He blinked, then looked her up and down again. There was a certain quality to people that had power in the abyss. A tingle in the air, a shiver down the spine, a sort of aura that said ‘don’t fuck with me.’ That was never present in someone that was new. The newbies stank of freshness, of a level of naivety and openness that the older denizens, those that had survived, just didn’t have.

This girl reeked of confidence and that malevolent stench that stronger demons carried. Was she playing him for a fool? “Yeah, we’re in Hell. Capital H. Sulfur and Brimstone and all those other places.”

“I see,” she said before blinking again. He wanted to down his drink and go faint in the bathroom, but her gaze kept him glued to his chair. “Is there a way out of here?” she asked.

“You batshit?” he asked in return. “The only way out of this place is if you fuck with those angel things. And no one wants to get purged. No dying either. Though almost dying ain’t no fun either. Good luck staying at the top end of the food chain if your brains are splattered all across the street, you know?”

She nodded slowly. “Okay. In that case, is there a place for people who are trying to fix this place? A police force? Heroes? A Protectorate?”

He tried to hold it in. He really did. But the laughter poured out of him in ruckus roars and he found himself smacking the table until his drink was bouncing around. “You, you fuckin’ brat. The police? Here? Sweetheart, this is Hell. There are plenty of cops here, but none of the sort that would help a damsel in distress. Unless the damsel wants to destress, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I do, and I’m not sure if I should be disgusted or not,” she said. She shook her head. “No, nevermind that. What about places to sleep? Motels or something. I don’t like the idea of staying on the streets tonight.”

“There’s a brothel three doors down,” he said. “Tell the matron that you’d spread ‘em for a bed and you’ll have yourself half a meal and a some warm compa--” he slowly stopped talking as the air around him grew a whole lot warmer. He noticed that the shadows all across The Shitty Bar were deepening and a lot of them were staring at him with countless little eyes. “Uh, I mean, there’s that Happy Hotel place?” he tried while pointing off to the side.

There was a much defaced poster on one wall, all rainbows and sunshine. Or that’s how it had looked before it was covered in sharpie dicks and other lewd little drawings. “And where can I find this Happy Hotel?” she asked before pausing. “It’s not another brothel, is it?”

“Nah, nah, the place is some demoness’s pet project thing. Fucking awful idea, but she’s got connections, you know. No one whose soul is black would step foot in the place.” Which meant that she’d leave him the fuck alone if she wandered off to find the damned place.

The girl seemed ready to ask something else, but turned her head just slightly to the side. One of the wolf boys was getting up, eyes fixed on the back of her head. “Hey, you,” he said.

The girl turned back to Husk. “Where can I find this hotel?”

“Bug bitch, I was talking to you,” the man said. He started walking over and his buddies giggled and cheered him on. “Me and my pack have got ourselves a serious need for some entertaining, you catch?”

The girl’s head turned, slowly and gently, until it was facing the boy. “I was talking. Please leave me alone,” she said. “I’m sorry, you were telling me about the hotel?”

Husk eyed her, then the red-faced wolf guy who was stomping over. “Uh, sweetheart, don’t you think you should, you know, start running?”

One of her antenna twitched. “No.”

“Hey, bitch,” the flesh and blood furry said as he reached towards her. “Listen to your betters when they’re speaking.”

His hand never touched her. Instead with a splatter of arterial blood, his arm was lobbed off at the elbow.

Everyone that was still able to think and see paused and watched as the now detached arm was dragged into the shadows by a whole lot of fist-sized spiders.

Then the screaming started.

Husk dove under the table just as a stray of bullet tore his pint apart and sent beer spraying all over. He covered his ears as the chatter of machine gun fire filled the room, and was then cut off by the far more terrifying screaming of half a dozen men and the buzz of far too many bugs.

And just as easily as it began, it stopped.

Husk blinked. Not two seconds had passed since he’d ducked into cover, but The Shitty Bar was quiet as the tomb.

He got up and looked over the edge of his table.

His pint was more holes than cheap tin, there was a scour mark across the wood of his table and the wall and ceiling above were pockmarked with bullet holes into which shadowy insects were skittering. By the time he looked down the insects were all gone, and so were the wolf boys.

All that was left of them were a few splashes of blood across tables and chairs and the floor, all marked with thousands of tiny, tiny little footprints.

“As I was saying,” the girl said.

Husk looked up to her. She was unruffled, face still as placid as when she entered, lips flat and eyes, if anything, rather bored. “Yeah?” he croaked.

“Where is this so called Happy Hotel?”

***

I don’t like this chapter all that much, probably the weakest of all the chapters written so far. But chapter three is a bloody masterpiece so we’ll just have to hope everyone can keep it together until tomorrow!

A huge, huge thanks to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!

Also, check out the Media tab on SpaceBattles for some awesome fanart of this story by DustyMinds and Balder!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Charlie was in the closest thing to heaven she had ever felt when the doorbell rang. She moaned in displeasure when Vaggie stopped doing that thing she did with her tongue and rolled off the couch next to her. "That's the door," Vaggie said before wiping a hand across her lips. She wiggled her popsicle towards the front door.

“Mmm?” Charlie said as she lowered her own popsicle. “What?” she asked.

The two of them were taking a well-earned break from all the sweaty, dirty work of getting things moved into the lobby from the lorry parked outside. Though, to be perfectly fair Razzle and Dazzle had been doing the bulk of the moving of things while Vaggie had fun bossing them around and Charlie had even more fun watching Vaggie asserting her dominance.

All in all, an excellent day!

The doorbell rang again and Charlie felt her eyes widening in a combination of excitement and sugar rushing to her brain.

With a few quick chomps, Charlie finished off her popsicle, flung the stick into the trash (she only missed by a little!) and made sure her shirt was nice and pleated and that her suspenders weren’t all twisted up. “That must be the delivery people from Amazon! We paid for two-day delivery a week ago, so it should be arriving now!” She hopped on the spot for a moment, then remembered that she had to actually answer the door herself now and rushed to the front.

She skipped across the lobby of her hotel (her hotel! It was all hers! And Vaggie’s too, but mostly hers!) and came to a stop before the front doors. Greeting people would be an important task, even if that person was an unpaid eternal intern on delivery duty.

Biggest, happiest smile on, she tore the door open and spoke even before she could take in the person before her. “Welcome to the Happy Hotel! The Happiest and only-iest hotel in hell!” She coughed, unable to hold back a chuckle. “We’re working on the slogan still.”

The person standing there was not a delivery person, not unless standards had dropped lower than the ninth circle when she wasn’t paying attention. The girl was tall, youngish looking, with smart red eyes and cute little antenna wiggling on her head.

Charlie did not touch them because they hadn’t been introduced yet.

The girl blinked slowly and lowered her hand from the doorbell button. “I see,” she said. Her eyes darted past Charlie and took in all the crates and boxes and the rolled up carpets. “I thought that the hotel was open already. I’m sorry for bothering you.” She started to turn.

Charlie’s heart lurched and she jumped forwards and almost managed to touch the girl’s shoulder before she stepped to the side. “Wait, wait!” she said. “Did, did you come here because you were looking for a room?” she asked.

It couldn’t be. No. there was no way Charlie was that lucky!

The girl paused and then nodded really slowly. “I came to ask about that, yes. I don’t have the means to afford anything yet, but I thought that learning about your prices would be a good place to start.”

Charlie took in the girl’s raggedy clothes, from the oversized sweatshirt to the torn up skirt to the bare, insectile feet. She didn’t look all that well off, in fact, she looked rather pitiful once Charlie looked past the straight backed posture and knowing gaze.

She was perfect!

She smiled so hard that her cheeks started to strain. “It’s okay! Come, come on in!” Faster than the girl could react, Charlie had her by one wrist and was dragging her into the lobby. She let go as soon as they crossed the threshold and spun around. “Welcome to the Happy Hotel!” she announced

“You said that already,” the girl said.

“I did!” Charlie agreed. She skipped forwards and wrapped an arm around Vaggie’s shoulder, her girlfriend tensed up a bit at the sudden contact, but loosened up a second later. “This is Vaggie, my best friend and girlfriend... at the same time! Oh, and I’m Charlie, the owner of this fine establishment.”

The girl nodded to Vaggie. “It’s a nice place,” she said without actually looking away from her.

That was okay, Charlie would give her the tour later. “I know! Well, actually it’s not nice yet, but it will be! Just you wait! Can I have your name?”

“Khepri,” the girl said after some hesitation. “You can call me Khepri.”

There was a sibilant, hissing quality to her voice that reminded Charlie of some of her dad’s friends. She dismissed it. It wasn’t as if it mattered if her first client had a teeny tiny speech impediment. “Welcome to the Happy Hotel, Khepri!” Charlie gushed. She didn’t start dancing on the spot because that would have been just a bit too much, but it was a near thing.

“Please don’t start singing,” Vaggie said.

“Oh, but this is so exciting! Our first client.”

Khepri’s head tilted to the side just a little bit, like a praying mantis that didn’t quite know how to fit the bug it had skewered into its mandibles. “I don’t recall agreeing to anything yet. And as I said, I don’t have the resources to pay yet.”

“That’s okay. We’ll give you a... first client discount,” Charlie said. Yes, that made perfect sense. “Maybe you could help around, if you’re looking for work?” Two vultures with one boulder!

Khepri’s neck snapped back upright. “I will have to think on it,” she said.

Charlie panicked. That was a polite way of saying no. And while the idea of her first target for redemption being polite was already making her tummy wiggle in happiness, it still meant that she had to convince her to stay!

“Do you know why this hotel exists?” Charlie asked. She leaned way, way forwards, eyes as wide as they would go.

Khepri shook her head slowly.

With a grin that split her face, Charlie hopped forwards, ignored the ‘oh no’ from Vaggie, and placed both hands together over her chest. She took a deep breath and began moving to circle around Khepri.

“Your soul might be tarnished, and your heart full of sin  
But at the Happy Hotel, you’re not just some has-been!”

Charlie skipped around Khepri and spun on the tip of her cloven feet. Khepri’s head turned, following her every motion with unblinking eyes.

“Together we pave the path, a road to redemption,  
Because all your soul needs, is a bit of attention!”

Charlie used a banister to twirl around and gestured grandly with her arms as her voice echoed out across the lobby. Khepri was now staring at Vaggie as if to ask if this was normal.

“We’ll turn you into a win,  
Take your sins for a spi-- hurk.”

Charlie bent over double, hands going to her throat where a fly had spilled in between one word and the next. She kneeled over, coughing while Vaggie patted her on the back.

“Thank fuck,” she heard her girlfriend whisper. “What my beautiful yet charmingly cringy girlfriend is trying to say,” Vaggie explained. “Is that the Happy Hotel is supposed to be a place for demons to redeem themselves. You know, do away with all of their sins and try to be better people and all that jazz.”

“Are you serious,” Khepri asked.

Charlie felt tears in her eyes, and she was sure that it wasn’t just because she had swallowed a fly. She had been here before. Now Khepri would mock her, tell her that it was a horrible idea, that she was a big dumb idiot for even thinking it and that--

“That’s a wonderful idea.”

Charlie stopped mid-cough and stood up with the suddenness of a mouse trap going off. “What?” she squeaked.

Khepri was still wearing the same non-expression and looking at her, but there was something just a bit softer in her gaze. “I said it’s a wonderful idea. I haven’t been here for long. I... crashed here earlier today. I think. It’s hard to tell time here. And I’ve been seeing so many horrible things.” She nodded and her antenna flopped-flopped back and forth. “Yes, having a place to train people to be better wouldn’t go amiss, I think. I’m not sure about making it into a hotel.”

Charlie clapped her hands together and rushed to Khepri. She didn’t hug her because respecting people’s boundaries was important, but it was a near thing. “It’s a hotel because you can check in and out of hotels!” she explained. She could feel another song coming but tamped it down for now. “We don’t want to force people to rehabilitate, we want to encourage and nurture them into becoming the butterflies I know they can be!”

“I see,” Khepri said. “I know a thing or two about trying to redeem yourself. It is not something done lightly, or easily.”

“You get it!” Charlie said. She was so full of giddiness that it would only take a breeze to have her take off and join the clouds. “So you’ll stay?” she asked.

Khepri blinked slowly. “If we can work out some sort of fair deal where I can work for my rent, then I suppose I wouldn’t mind staying here. It’s certainly safer than staying on the streets.”

Charlie extended a hand towards Khepri. “Deal!” she said.

Before Khepri (her first client!) could even begin to move towards the hand, Charlie was yanked off the ground and dragged deeper into the lobby, then into one of the rooms adjacent to it. The door slammed shut and she found herself looking up at an irate Vaggie.

“What are you thinking?” Vaggie asked.

Charlie tried on a smile. “That we have our first client?”

“We don’t know anything about her,” Vaggie said.

“I know that, but she’s willing to try! And if we don’t extend a little trust, we’ll never get anywhere.” Charlie got up to her feet properly, turned around, then squeezed Vaggie with a big hug. The kind of hug that was meant to reassure, and tell Vaggie that she loved her lots and that everything would be okay. So a pretty standard hugs all things said.

“Dammit Charlie,” Vaggie said before surrendering and letting her head thump down onto Charlie’s shoulder. “I don’t like this. She’s creepy as hell.”

“What?” Charlie said. “She’s a little stiff, but she’s hardly creepier than anyone else.”

Vaggie shook her head, then shivered. “Something about her just rubs me the wrong way. Like, it’s primal. I don’t know. Just be careful, okay?”

“Okay!” Charlie’s smile was enough to light up the whole room and Vaggie folded. “I’ll be super careful. But Khepri looks nice, what’s the worse that she could do?”

***

A huge, huge thanks to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!

Head over to SpaceBattles if you wanna chat about Hazbin's cosmology!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

“And this,” Charlie said with a twirl and a wave of her arms, “Is this floor’s elevator!” 

Vaggie couldn’t decide between sighing at Charlie’s unending enthusiasm and wanting to hug the girl for being herself. As soon as the Khepri girl had agreed to stay, Charlie had exploded with joy (figuratively) and started dragging her all over the place to show off the Hotel she was so proud of.

Khepri nodded as Charlie started describing how elevators worked and how awesome the Happy Hotel’s elevator was because it used counterweights to work instead of hundreds of damned idiots pulling at chains. 

Vaggie wasn’t sure what she thought about Khepri.

Scratch that. She thought Khepri was creepy and weird and didn’t like the way she paid complete attention to Charlie.

Charlie was her girlfriend and she wasn’t going to share her cinnamon roll with anyone.

She held back any pouts, because if Charlie saw her pouting she would be all over her poking and prodding until the truth came out, but she did cross her arms and glare at the back of Khepri’s head. 

“This is a rather large building,” Khepri said. “There’s enough room here for two, maybe three hundred guests, easily.” She looked down at Charlie. “Did you intend to fill every room? It might be hard to run any sort of therapy with that many people at once.”

Charlie’s smile froze on her face. The kind of expression she always got when talking to her dad over the phone. “W-well, that’s the dream. Um, how do you know how many rooms there are?”

“I can see everything in my range,” Khepri explained. “The entire building is within it.”

“Really?” Charlie’s smile turned genuine with the speed of a light flicking back on. “That’s awesome! Maybe we should hire you as a concierge. That way you’d know who needs help as soon as they need it! Plus we could get you a cute uniform.”

“I don’t know,” Vaggie slid into the conversation as smoothly as she could. She ran a hand through her white hair, letting it splay out over her side. “That’s the kind of work that needs someone strong. What if we get rowdy guests?”

Khepri might have been able to creep some people into submission, but the stick-thin girl wouldn't last a second against some of the rougher denizens of Pentagram. “I can handle myself,” Khepri said.

Vaggie and Charlie shared a quick look. “We’ll find something for you, no worries!” Charlie said with an easy smile. “So, if you can see everything, does that mean you picked out a room already?”

Khepri didn’t answer. Instead, she turned and looked at the elevator a moment before it chimed and the doors slid open. Razzle and Dazzle stumbled out, the two goat bois falling over themselves as they rushed to Charlie’s side.

They bobbed on the ground, gesturing and waving their arms to try and communicate something, but it was obvious from Charlie’s lost expression that the message wasn’t coming through.

“There’s a group of people outside,” Khepri said. “Twenty two of them. All of them are wolf-like and they don’t look happy.”

“Oh no,” Charlie said. She rushed into the elevator, soon followed by Razzle and Dazzle and Vaggie herself. Then Khepri stepped in and moved to the side so that Charlie could press the button for the first floor.

As soon as the elevator dinged their arrival the entire group stumbled out. Charlie took the lead while the two little demon helpers scampered off, either to find something helpful to do or to hide from whatever trouble had landed on their doorstep.

Vaggie was preparing herself too. She summoned a spear and twirled it around to test its weight. She was about to give the air a few jabs when she noticed Khepri staring at her. “Que?” 

“Nothing. I just knew someone with the same ability.”

Vaggie’s gaze narrowed as she fixed Khepri with a glare. “I thought you said you’d only been here for a day or so.”

“I didn’t meet that person in Hell,” Khepri explained. 

Vaggie didn’t get to dissect that statement before the girl moved past her and followed Charlie outside.

The air stank of shit and sulfur and wet dog, the sky was a deep, burning red that hinted at the oncoming night, and there was an entire hoard of pseudo-werewolves, actual werewolves, dog-people, wolf-people and other dog-themed demons. One of those things didn’t belong in the lot before the Happy Hotel.

Charlie wrung her hands together as she looked over the group and Vaggie tightened her grip over her spear. “Um, hello! Welcome to the Happy Hotel! I’m Charlie, Princess of Hell. Uh, can I help you?” she asked.

A creature stepped out from among the pack, bigger than all the others by half a head and with a body entirely made of glistening metal crudely beaten into the shape of a wolf. It moved with a clatter of steel on steel until it was between Charlie and the group of interlopers. “We are not here for you, runt,” he growled. “We’re here for that bitch.” His snout twitched past Vaggie and Charlie.

They turned and found Khepri standing stock still, eyes locked on the leader of the wolves.

“We can’t let them take her,” Charlie whispered.

Vaggie closed her eyes and wished the sinking feeling in her gut away. But if wishing actually worked then she wouldn’t be standing outside in front of a group of rabid idiots. “And what,” she said. “Does a bunch of hyped up furries want with our guest?”

There was some growling and rumbling at that, but none of them stepped up, especially when their leader started to laugh. “Oh, you’ve got balls, little girl. My boys will have fun with you.”

“Oh no,” Vaggie said. “Was that an implication that your boys would have their way with me? How original.” She spun her spear around and pointed its head at the group. “You do know who we are, right?”

The leader’s maw opened and a low snarl escaped him. “The bitch tore some of my boys apart and scattered their remains across an entire slice of the Pentagram. We’re going to kill her right and proper for that.”

Vaggie looked to the side and her eyes met Charlies. “We, we won’t let yo--”

“It’s okay,” Khepri said, cutting Charlie off mid-word. “I’ll be fine.”

“Khepri,” Charlie breathed. 

The thin, insect-like girl walked past them, her motions slow and stuttery, like a bug that was gingerly crawling over a branch. She came to a stop a dozen paces away from the leader of the pack. “Hookwolf,” she said.

The metallic wolf tilted its head to one side. “You’ve heard of me, then,” he growled.

Khepri tilted her head to one side in imitation of the wolf. “Not here, not in hell, but before that, yes. Are you the Hookwolf that was part of the Empire?” she asked, her voice resonating with a sibilant hiss that seemed to echo across the lot. “Are you the Hookwolf that was part of the Slaughterhouse Nine?” This time the anger was palpable, a tang to the air like copper that had Vaggie and some of the more cautious wolf-themed idiots stepping back.

The giant wolf grinned a toothy grin of sharpened steel. “So you do recognize me. And yet you decided to mess with my boys?”

“Perhaps, Hookwolf,” Khepri said. “It is you who should put more effort into recognizing who you are preparing to fight.”

Hookwolf scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I remember the day you died.”

The words rang out like a death knell. Hookwolf tensed and started to eye Khepri up and down as if she wasn’t just a stick-thin girl with bad posture and freaky eyes. His head twitched around, the clanging of his metallic body sounding mute compared to the low drone coming from all around them.

“Vaggie,” Charlie said. “What’s that noise?”

“It sounds like... bees?” Vaggie said.

Khepri chuckled. “That was some time ago, when you still served as Jack Slash’s little pet. We got rid of him in the end, you know. A fate far worse than death.”

Hookwolf stomped one foot on the ground and a ripple ran across the thousands of steel plates that made up his body even as the ground shook under the impact. “Skitter,” he growled.

“You’ve heard of me, then,” she mimicked.

There was a noise from behind them, a low bass drone like a million taps against the surface of a huge drum. The sky was blotted out by the form of the Happy Hotel, the light from the pentagram in the sky touching the nearest side and leaving the opposite in darkness. 

That’s where they came from. 

Tendrils raced out from the shadows cast by the hotel. She turned her gaze upwards as the sky darkened above them, the red dome of hell blotted out by a mass of writhing, whirling, chittering horror. 

Hookwolf growled something that was lost in the droning roar of the swarm. He started to move towards Khepri, huge leaps that had his claws tearing apart the earth beneath him.

He was far too slow.

The swarms descended, spiralling around each other in a massive vortex. Black tentacles made up of countless millions of tiny darting forms that pressed together in a mass of wings, and chitin, and mandibles, and stingers. 

Hookwolf was slammed into the ground. Parts of his body swung out into the air and Khepri sidestepped one that would have taken her head, but didn’t otherwise move as the converging swarms tore into the wolfman.

Then the tides came. Most insects couldn’t fly, so they had to crawl. A tsunami of black bugs surged around them, avoiding Vaggie and Charlie and Khepri as though they were Moses in the Nile.

The noise was like something out of the primordial nightmares of humanity; insectile trills, the humming beat of wings and the almost inaudible click of legs and mouths, all magnified a millionfold. The din drowned out speech, but not screams.

And there were screams. Many of the wolfmen broke and ran before the tide even reached them, running as fast as their legs and arms could take them, those who were too slow to brave were flattened beneath the storm's mass, which struck the ground hard enough to take the tiles beneath Vaggie's feet. 

Then it coiled inwards, hungry, and the screams got louder. 

Khepri turned back to them, apparently done with the situation, completely ignoring the torment unending behind her. “I believe you mentioned that to take the position of concierge I would require a certain amount of skill with dealing with... unsavoury individuals?” she asked with the voice of the swarm. 

“Um,” was Charlie’s answer. She tried to smile. “You should maaaaybe try talking through your problems, next time?”

Vaggie pressed a palm to her face.

***

A huge, huge thanks to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity! 

Also, check out the Media tab to see the art work. There’s just... so much!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Charlie raised her hand to knock, then lowered it. Then she raised it again, then she turned around, bit her knuckle and jumped on the spot a few times. 

Knocking on Khepri’s door while the girl was sleeping should not have been something that made her this nervous. Khepri was a client at the hotel and would soon be an employee. But Khepri was also creepy as fuck. 

Charlie was about to girdle her loins and knock when the door opened up without so much as a whisper and she found herself stretching her head back to look Khepri into the eyes. The girl’s chitinous hair was pointing every which way and her sweatshirt looked a little rumpled, but she didn’t look any worse for wear. “Can I help you?” she asked.

Nodding, Charlie took a small step away from Khepri and clasped her hands together. “Yes, yes you can,” she said. “Seeing as how you’ll be starting your duties as an employee of the Happy Hotel soon, I thought it prudent to, uh, inform you that your current style of dress is, um, insufficient.”

Khepri looked down at her sweatshirt and skirt, then back up. “Is it?” she asked.

There wasn’t even a hint of threat in the words, but Charlie still felt as if she had answered one of her dad’s questions wrong. “It is?” she asked.

Khepri pulled at the front of her brownish-beige sweatshirt, then back up to Charlie. “Okay.”

Charlie exploded--but not literally--with joy. “Brilliant! Let’s go, let’s go. I got us a reservation at Madame Modest’s. She’s the best seamstress in Pentagram. Everyone who’s anyone goes to her to get the dirtiest dresses and hottest suits. That’s where I got my outfit.” She ran ahead a bit and posed with her hip cocked to one side and her head tilted back just so. “Vaggie says it makes my butt look good. What do you think?”

“Um,” Khepri said.

“I know! She’s a bit biased though.” She grabbed Khepri’s wrist and pulled her along, almost stumbling down the stairs as she took them three at a time. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun! And I thought today was going to be boring. We’re just waiting for deliveries all morning, and then, this evening we have another prospective guest. Two! Two whole guests at the Happy Hotel. This is the best week!”

She skipped across the lobby, waved goodbye to Vaggie who was busy looking over some papers and pushed open the front doors with her hip.

Her limo was parked out front, engine already growling and ready to go with Razzle and Dazzle in the front. She sidled up to it and opened the backdoor with a wavy gesture and a grand smile. “C’mon in!” she said.

Khepri folded herself almost double to fit in the limo, then skittered her way to the front where she found a seat for herself. She was still doing that thing where she didn’t look around herself while moving, but it was okay, proper body language wasn’t super important to rehabilitation.

She plopped herself down in the seat nearest the door and began tap-tapping her feet on the ground. “So....” she began, stretching the word out.

Khepri just stared at her. She didn’t even blink.

“How long have you been in Hell?” she asked.

“Two days now,” Khepri said. “I can’t say I’m terribly fond of it.”

“It’s not that bad,” Charlie said. “It’s just this huge influx of immigrants are taking all of the proper citizen’s jobs. At least, that’s what my dad says. He’s a bit of a conservative, fire and brimstone kind of guy. But the next purge is due any day now, so no worries.” She laughed, but it felt weak and, honestly, a little tired. Talking about the purge always got her mood down.

“I see. The people here are... not what I would have expected from Hell. There’s less fire and torture and a lot more debauchery and... well it reminds me of home but with less inhibitions and stranger people.” 

Charlie waved the last bit off. “The people here aren’t that strange. You just need to listen and pay attention and you’ll figure them right out. I always believed that there was a kernel of goodness in every demon.”

Her words were punctuated by the limo’s horn blaring as a crowd of demons cut them off, all of them running in a panic away from something. Razzle and Dazzle were good drivers though, and managed to plow through the crowd with only a few casualties and bumps.

“There’s a guy in green power armour shooting demons with a shotgun two streets down,” Khepri said. 

Charlie’s smile froze a little. “Oh, him, he always gets like that before a purge. Um. But I’m sure he’s nice under all the murder and mayhem?

“The purge?” Khepri asked. There wasn’t any more inflection to her voice, but Charlie had the impression that she was now the centre of the girl’s attention.

“Angels come down once a year and, uh, kinda murder a whole lot of demons.” Her shoulders slumped. “They can do that. Murder demons, that is. It’s a thing, and I intend to do something about it. But don’t worry, the Hotel is on the edges of the city. We should be perfectly safe.”

“You intend to do something about it?” Khepri’s head tilted to one side a little like an ant trying to figure out which part of a corpse to bring home. “Do you preemptively kill the angels? We could kidnap one, perhaps, find out about heaven and how to gain access that way.”

Charlie smiled, because smiling might distract Khepri from the sweat running down her forehead. “Nnooo,” she stretched out the word. “I meant that if we redeem enough demons, then we wouldn’t need purges anymore.”

“That doesn’t sound as efficient as my idea,” Khepri said. “We should discuss these angels and how to defend against them more later. If my job will include protecting the Hotel, I might have to get rid of them at the source.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Charlie said. She was beginning to suspect that rehabilitating Khepri was going to take a while.

“We’ll see,” Khepri said. “Not all those who come to you for help will be as even headed as I am.”

“Ahaha... yeah,” Charlie said. She swallowed. “We’re, uh, almost there?” 

Buildings were flashing by though the limo’s windows, most of them huge skyscrapers that belonged to various corporations, but there were a few specialized shops and boutiques tucked in between those with bouncers by the front doors to keep out the rabble. 

And there was lots of rabble.

The limo screeched to a halt and parked against the side of the road, two wheels on the sidewalk and right over a no-parking zone. Charlie was the first out, stretching and standing tall and ignoring with habitual ease all the looks being directed her way. 

There were a lot more people in the streets, not just because it was so close to another purge, but because of the huge number of dead that had come down recently, some of them unprocessed and still quite lost. 

Khepri was slower to step out of the Limo. She was staring at the store before them but Charlie had the impression that nothing was happening on the street without her knowing. “Is this the place?” she asked.

Charlie pressed the front of her suit down, adjusted her tie, and gave a big, happy nod. “Yes indeed,” she said before inspecting the building herself.

Madame Modest’s boutique was a tall, glass-fronted and rather modern building. An ominous red glow poured out from within and illuminated the models standing behind every window in such a way that you could barely see the ropes holding their bodies in place in all sorts of suggestive poses.

“Is this a brothel?” Khepri asked.

“What?” Charlie asked in return. “Of course not... well, technically, yes, but mostly it’s a fine clothing store. The best in Pentagram.” She nodded as she pulled Khepri towards the front door. “Madame Modest’s staff kidnap only the best and most beautiful people to force them into indentured modelling contracts. Personally, I think it’s a bit much. But that’s fashion for you.”

“Uh-huh,” Khepri said as she was pulled into the front lobby.

It was a wide, open area, lined with mannequins covered in all sorts of suits and dresses and costumes from every era. There were dressed for pharaohs and outfits that looked like they belonged in a Village People music video. Assless chaps and all.

And there, standing with her hands folded over each other in full body BDSM gear, was Madame Modest. Behind her were two dozen stick-thin figures covered in tight leather and straps and zippers. “Bonjour,” she said with a curt bow. The shop assistants all bowed as one a moment later, and a bit deeper too.

“Hello Madame Modest,” Charlie with a returning nod. The Madame was the kind of woman that was quite formal and just a bit eccentric, but she was the best at what she did. She smiled at the seamstress. “I called you earlier. I was wondering if you had the time to whip something up for us?”

“Oh-hoh-hoh,” the Madame said as she moved a hand to cover her mouth. “Indeed I do dearest princess.” She spun around, butt wiggling around under a too-thin layer of spandex. “Follow me.”

With a strut that would put most catwalk models to shame, the Madame lead Charlie and Khepri up a wide staircase, then down a lavishly decorated corridor lined with photographs of the Madame and her various highbrow clients. She recognized a few of them, from the elusive Pig, to the Radio Demon and even Charlie’s own mother. 

“Here ve are, ma cherie,” the Madame said as she gestured and a pair of doors opened up. 

It was a small room, tiny, but well lit and surrounded on all sides by mirrors that made the white dress and off-white suit in the middle of the room stand out like the centre jewel on a crown. The mannequins were sculpted to look just like her and Vaggie.

Charlie spun around on a heel, slapped a hand over Khepri’s eyes and used a bit of demonic power to slam the door shut behind her with a resounding thud. “You saw nothing!” she screamed.

“Was that a wedding ensemble for you and Vaggie?” Khepri asked, quirking her head in an attempt to peek around the fingers.

“It was no such thing!” Charlie yelled back.

“Oh?” The Madame said. “But ve vere so careful vit the measurements you gave us.”

Charlie shook her head from side to side so hard her hair splayed out. “No, nope, they’re perfect... for someone that isn’t me and Vaggie.”

“I think it’s rather cute,” Khepri announced in a perfect deadpan. “Have you told your girlfriend yet? You are girlfriends, yes?”

“One word and you’re fired!” Charlie threatened. A short pause before she smiled, “And yes! We are!”

“You haven’t actually hired me yet,” Khepri pointed out helpfully.

Charlie’s hair caught on fire as her cheeks burned. “Sh-shush! We should go look at your uniforms. That’s why we’re here. Right Madame Modest?” 

The Madame was reeking of evil French magic, the sort that only showed up with there was good drama afoot. “Of course,” she purred before she began to walk again. She stopped before a more modest pair of doors just a little ways down the corridor. “Our selection vill certainly appeal to you, ma cherie.”

Khepri seemed to sense Charlie’s trepidation. Instead of following the Madame she slowly raised a hand, then patted Charlie on the head. “I won’t tell your girlfriend that you want to marry her,” she said.

Charlie melted, tears coming to her eyes as she focused on the ground between Taylor’s insectile legs. “It was a just in case thing,” she muttered.

“I’m sure,” Khepri agreed. “Now, let’s look at these uniforms?” 

“Right,” Charlie agreed. She firmed up her resolve to pretend that nothing had happened, puffed out her chest, and strolled over to where Madame Modest was waiting, a knowing grin on her lips. 

“This is ze first option my staff and I ‘ave created,” the Madame said as she gestured and a spinning platform turned. On it was a mannequin in an upright, modest pose, arms before its stomach and legs together just-so. Its uniform was a black and red and white dress covered in fine ruffles and plenty of lace.

“It’s so pretty!” Charlie said as she clapped.

“That’s a maid outfit,” Kehpri said. She was staring at the hemline of the ruffled skirt that stopped somewhere close to the thighs. “A slutty maid outfit.”

“Ah, yes. It is designed to ride up just-so ven the maid bends down to reveal our custom made lace underthings, yes?” The Madame pointed out helpfully.

“No.” 

“Huh?’ Charlie asked as she turned to Khepri. “You don’t like it?” she asked.

Khepri stared at her, then at the dress. “I wouldn’t wear that if hell froze over.”

“You mean like in Canada?”

“What?” it was Khepri’s turn to sound just a tiny bit confused.

Charlie shrugged one shoulder. “It’s the part of Hell where all the Canadians live. They called it Canada. It’s cold to keep all the people meat fresh... nevermind.” She shook her head and turned back to the Madame. “Maybe something else?” she asked.

“But of course,” Madame Modest said. Her whole outfit creaked as she bowed at the waist again. With a twirl of a wrist, the platform with the maid outfit shifted around and revealed another maid outfit. Or at least, an apron.

“No.”

The next few uniforms to pass were all very pretty variations on the same theme. They were all, at least in part, maid outfits. Or parts of maid outfits over mannequins not wearing anything else.

The Madame’s smile only grew. “Perhaps something from our other line, then,” she said. There was a click-clack from behind the revolving platform before the next outfit slid out and stood before them.

It was a concierge outfit done in the Hotel’s red and black. Eight buttons on the front in two rows, shoulder guards with black tassels, cuffs with twin black bands around them. The skirt below was a sim thing that stopped well below the knees, black with twin red bands along its side. And atop the mannequin’s head, a kepi with a small brim all done in black with a red band along it’s edge.

“It’s perfect!” Charlie said. She turned to find Khepri looked at the uniform with a sceptical eye. “What do you think?”

“It looks professional, at least,” she said. 

“Zen les us try it on,” the Madame said. She snapped her finger and just like that, Khepri’s sweatshirt was torn off and before the girl could react, the uniform jumped onto her. 

Khepri, froze, all movement stopping for a few long seconds before she looked down at her new outfit.

The skirt was a bit stuffy, but it’s fit was nice if androgenous. The uniform top was nice and snug and a pair of black velvet gloves had found their way onto Khepri’s hands. The hat was the best part, sitting at a jaunty angle above Khepri’s insectile and segmented hair with her antenna poking out on either side of the brim. 

“Oh, you look so cute!” Charlie declared.

She could imagine Khepri holding doors open for people already.

Truly, Charlie was the luckiest girl.

***

If you want to download a copy of this story, you can always head over here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21311359/chapters/50750065 where it’s hosted on AO3

And if you wanna talk about it on Reddit, we just made a post over on R/Hazbin Hotel! https://www.reddit.com/r/HazbinHotel/comments/dtgdcc/wannabee_a_hazbin_worm_crossover/

And, of course a huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Charlie bounced her papers on her lap to make sure they were all nice and neat and tidy, then looked up and to her... was client the word for two demons before her? Maybe patients would be more appropriate.

In either case, she met the eyes of first one potential-redemption-success-story, then the other. Khepri didn’t even blink, she just sat primly on her chair in her absolutely adorable concierge outfit, hands on her lap and attention all on Charlie.

The other patient was slouched way back in his couch, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling and one of his four arms tapping a rap-tap-tap beat on the back of his seat. She smiled at him and sorta wished that he would be paying just a bit more attention.

Angel Dust was the find of a unlifetime. Not only was he a super high profile demon, he was also not the sort of person anyone would suspect to be capable of redeeming himself. It was why, after learning from Vaggie that the pornstar was looking for a place to stay, she was quick to invite him to one of the Happy Hotel’s suites on a few conditions.

She didn’t exactly expect the spidery pornstar to accept, but here he was, sitting in her therapy room ready to get therapized. Therapied... spoken to.

“W-well, I guess we should begin?” she asked.

Angel Dust groaned. Khepri blinked, and Vaggie, wonderful beautiful Vaggie gave her a subtle thumbs up and an uncertain smile.

Charlie smiled, puffed out her chest and began. “Welcome to the Happy Hotel’s first ever group therapy session!” she announced.

“Are you a certified therapist?” came Khepri’s tiny voice.

“Questions at the end please.” She smiled harder. “I thought it would be nice if we went around and introduced ourselves. Just... four things. Your name, a bit about yourself now, and a bit about your past. And your hope for the future!”

She waited for volunteers. Then waited a few seconds more.

The clock in the corner tick-ticked.

“Well, how about I go first?” she asked rhetorically. “My name is Charlie Magne. I’m the Princess of Hell and proud owner of the first ever rehabilitation hotel in Hell. Um, my past is pretty simple. I was born in Hell with two great parents. Great ish. Okay parents. They tried their best. Anyway. My mom is Lilith, queen of the monsters and my dad is Lucifer the Fallen.” She smiled wider at the slight tilt of Khepri’s head and the way she blinked twice in under a minute. She was paying attention! Angel Dust was still staring at the ceiling, but he wasn’t groaning at least. “Uh, my dreams for the future are...” she looked at Vaggie from the corner of her eye and her perfect girlfriend gave her an encouraging smile. She flushed. She couldn’t say anything like that while Vaggie was right there. “Are, uh, to help so many demons that we don’t need to be purged every year!”

She clapped as she finished, but soon stopped when she realized she was the only one doing it. With a cough, she looked at her notes, then back at her patients. “So, who wants to go next?”

The clock tick-tocked.

“V-Vaggie, how about you show our guests how it’s done?” Vaggie shook her head, but Charlie pleaded with her eyes and Vaggie softened under the look.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Everyone calls me Vaggie,” she began.

“I betch’a you like it more when the princess screams it,” Angel Dust said.

Vaggie glared at him. “I’m Salvadorian. Came here because I was a bit too much of a whore when I was alive.” She shrugged one shoulder and swept her pretty white hair out of her face. “As for the future... I want to see Charlie succeed. What happens after is whatever.”

Charlie beamed, her tummy nice and warm and fuzzy, as if she’d eaten a whole litter of kittens. “Thank you Vaggie! Angel, since you spoke up, how about you go next?”

“Fuck me,” the spider demon said before he languidly moved all four arms around, pushed himself up in his seat, then crossed his legs one over the other. “I’m Angel Dust, baby. Hottest thing to come out of the west side of the Pentagram. Number one best selling male-on-whatever pornstar in the last decade. Yadda yadda, you know how it goes.” He waved two hands in little circles as if to dismiss whatever he’d just said.

“I do not,” Khepri said. She was eyeing him now. “What about your dreams for the future?”

“You mean besides surviving this damned... season?” He smirked, then melted into his seat and with a quick, rather limber twirl, ended up upside down with both legs over the top of the seat. “I don’t know, sweetheart, but give me enough cash and I’ll make all of yours come true.” He blew Khepri a kiss.

Charlie didn’t know if that was a good sign or not, but she made note of it anyway. “Okay, thank you for sharing Angel. Now, Khepri, you’re pretty new to Hell, so what’s your story?”

Khepri was silent for a few tick-ticks of the clock, then nodded as if to herself. “I have had many names. Taylor was my first, but then the Warlord Skitter, then Weaver, then finally, before I died they called me Khepri. I don’t care much for it, but I suppose I deserve the name.” She looked down for a moment, then back up. “A fun fact about me is that I really like bugs.”

She stared at Charlie for a few more tick-ticks. “As for my dreams of the future... I don’t think I belong in Hell. What I did might have been wrong, but I did it for the right reasons. So I will fight to redeem myself. And if they won’t let me into heaven...” She trailed off and her eyes narrowed. “I’ll find another way in.”

“Oh-kay!” Charlie didn’t want to discourage her little butterflies just yet, especially not Angel Dust who was so new to their little family. “Well then, how about we go in a circle and we can talk about, uh, what we think our biggest faults are?”

Khepri tilted her head just a little and seemed to think on that. Angel Dust sighed and scratched at his poofy chest and Vaggie gave her a thumbs up with her other hand held up her phone and scrolled through MySpace.

“I’ll begin!” Charlie decided. Taking the initiative was always important, her dad used to say. Even though he mostly meant the saying to be used about assassinating political dissidents, but it probably applied to this too. “I think that I’m a little bit of a ditz sometimes, and that I might forget to believe in myself sometimes. Now you, Angel.”

“My biggest fault?” the pornstar asked, head tilted all the way back so that he was looking at her upside-down. “Well, I’m pretty sure I could have participated in that gang land gang bang last year, but all those Canadians on the scene had me nervous. Prolly should work on that.”

“Ah, that’s, nice?” Charlie said. She looked down at her notes to see what they said. There was a tiny scribble that looked like Angel Dust with an arrow pointing to a basket full of kittens. That helped. “Very nice. What about you, Khepri?”

“I... think I might jump to escalating issues a bit too quickly,” Khepri admitted silently. “Perhaps less force used with greater precision could have the same effects with less collateral.” She shook her head. “Or maybe I could just take this for the vacation it is.”

That... was a start! “Excellent.” She nodded along for a moment. “I’m so proud of all of you, and I’m sure that in no time at all we’ll all be skipping along the road of redemption, petting puppy dogs and singing on rainbows.”

Angel Dust gagged.

“And,” Charlie continued. “I think that’s enough for today. Next time we can talk about our favourite fluffy things and how we think we can redeem ourselves from all the itty bitty bad things we’ve done.”

“Wait, is that it?” Angel said as he spun around and planted his feet on the ground. “Fucking thank Christ.”

Charlie smiled at him. “Come on now, that wasn’t so bad was it? And we’ll only have two sessions a day. Maybe next time we can talk about swearing and why is so not cool beans.”

Angel Dust stared at her and blinked slowly. “I’m still getting the room for free, yeah?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said. “Redemption is its own reward.”

He huffed and started walking out. “Right. Well at least it’s not as dirtying as some of the other shit I’ve done for a place to sleep.” He left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Charlie crumpled onto her seat. “I did horribly, didn’t I?” she whispered.

“Hey, hey, I thought you did... okay,” Vaggie said as she moved over to start patting her on the back.

“Have you ever actually attend therapy before?” Khepri asked.

Charlie wiped at her eyes and looked up into her newest employee’s stoic visage. “Not really.”

Khepri nodded. “I see. Perhaps shifting the focus away from what a person did wrong to why they did it would be best. Then you can talk through the chain of events and pinpoint where things started going wrong.”

Vaggie hummed. “That’s surprisingly insightful.”

“I’ve been to therapy before,” Khepri said.

“I don’t doubt it,” Vaggie replied.

Charlie looked up from her slump. “Do you think you could look at my notes and maybe help?” she asked, a kernel of hope sprouting in her chest.

Khepri blinked, them moved a hand out before her.

That was assent enough for Charlie who pushed her noted into the girl’s hands. Khepri brought them up and studied them, then turned the page, then turned it again before looking up. “These are just drawings of cats and dogs and rainbows.”

“Yeah, isn’t that the end goal?” Charlie said. “My dad always said ‘you can’t take what you want if you don’t know what you want.’”

“That’s certainly advice,” Khepri said. “Maybe instead of focusing on the eventual end goal, focus on the steps to get there?”

“Like buying a basketful of kittens for everyone to play with? I wish we could get puppies to play with too.”

Khepri blinked again. “No. Definitely not like that.” She frowned. “Why couldn’t you get puppies?”

“No dogs in hell,” Charlie explained with a sigh.

Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, and like the bestest girlfriend ever, gave her a good squeeze. “I think what Khepri means is that we should work on little steps. Take things one thing at a time.”

“Well, yeah,” Charlie said. “Angel Dust won’t stop being a pornstar after just one meeting. It’ll take work, and attention, and lots of love.” She frowned. “But not that kind of love.”

Khepri nodded. “Yes. By the way, who is Angel Dust. Beyond a pornstar spider person thing.”

Vaggie rolled her eyes. “Just some wanna be dipshit whose head is too big for his own good. But some degenerates like seeing him get fucked online, so he struck it big. Traps are in right now.”

“Traps?”

“Vaggie,” Charlie warned. “We’re trying to help Khepri, not corrupt her even more.”

Khepri raised two hands in surrender. “I was just curious. He’s setting up a pole in his room as we speak. Also, he brought a pig with him. A literal pig. I am not sure what the hotel’s rules say about that.”

“It’s... probably fine?” Charlie asked. “Maybe you should go see if he needs help moving in and stuff? It’s kind of part of your job, right?”

Khepri nodded. “Okay,” she said before turning on her heel and walking out.

Charlie sighed as soon as she was out of the room, then brought her arms up. “This is harder than I thought. I think I could use a cuddle.”

Vaggie rolled her eye, but she didn’t refuse. Because cuddles were the best thing. “You’ll figure it out, Charlie. I trust you.”

“I hope so,” Charlie said.

***

And so Angel slips into the story, not with a bang or a whisper, but with a moan.

And, of course a huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!

Also, check out the tons of awesome fanart in the Media thread!


	7. Chapter 7

I just discovered that you could post images onto AO3. So I decided to post all of the jaw-dropping fanart that this story was gifted with on it's main posting location. All the links are to the respective artist's SpaceBattles profiles. 

Hopefully you enjoy these as much as I have!

**Fanart:**  
  
by [Balder](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/balder.340138/)  
  
  
by [DustyMinds](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/dustymind.321678/)  
  
  
by **[Squirrelly Sama](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/76957/)**  
  
  
by **[Aerial Zero](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/358468/)**  
  
  
by **[Strife Ren](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/410740/)**  
  
  
**(recolouring) by [Hadescat](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/373399/)  
  
  
  
  
by [TangoDeltaBravo](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/320671/)**  
  
  
  
**by [FPSCanarussia](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/327452/)**  
  
  
by ****[Abyranss](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/321233/)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Seven

The hotel had soooo many stairs.

Oh sure, he could have used the elevator, but he was just one floor up and if he didn’t exercise at least a little then his legs would get all fat and flabby, and not in the thicc and sexy way.

He made it to the second floor, then walked over towards the little dining area the princess girl had shown him yesterday. Fat Nuggets was tucked under two arms, the pig occasionally snorting at the air at the scent of sweet, sweet coffee. “Don’t worry, Fatty, we’ll get you a mug too,” he said before reaching over and scratching the pig behind the ears.

The dining hall was a bit of a shithole, with a bunch of tables stacked against the far wall next to a pile of seats. There was only one table set out for the actual guests of the hotel, surrounded by high-backed seats and lit by a crystal chandelier hanging above.

Like most of the hotel, it was going for a fancy but dilapidated aesthetic that he could have done without. It reminded him a bit too much of some of the gigs he’d done early-on in his career. He paused as he took in the three occupants of the table.

Charlie, the so-called Princess of Hell, was stuffing her face with spoonfuls of some sort of cereal, the box of Hellogs before her tipped on its side next to a carton of Cow Girl milk. Vaggie was watching her friend eat while taking little nibbles at an apple. And at the far end of the table, was the weird bug girl. She was staring into a bowl of her own, another cereal box discarded by her side.

“You know, staring at it all day won’t make it any less hard, now, me on the other hand...” he said as he approached her end of the table. It was usually, in his life experience, a good idea not to antagonize the stupidly powerful sorts. Best to go after the help. “What, never handled a spoon before?” he asked. “I can show you some tips. I’m good at putting things in my mouth.”

Khepri looked away from her bowl and up to him, red bug-eyes glinting in the light before she lowered her head and stared at Fat Nuggets. “That’s a pig,” she said.

“Your powers of observation are incredible,” he said before placing Fat Nuggets on the table between them. He grabbed two bowls from the stack in the middle of the table, then a spoon and the carton of milk. “So what are you stuffing down your throat this morning?”

“I’m not sure,” Khepri said. She poked her spoon at a few fleshy circles floating in blood-stained milk.

Angel lifted the box on the table and stared at the logo on the front. “Flesh loops? I remember these, there was a big scandal like, six months ago? Turns out they were using animal sphincters instead of demon ones.”

Khepri pushed her bowl away.

“I, of course, could tell right away,” Angel said before patting his chest with false modesty. “I’m something of an expert when it comes to eating assholes.” He patted Fat Nuggets on the head. “Go steal the princess’s grub and I’ll pour you a bowl,” he told the pig.

Khepri followed Fat Nugget’s progress across the table. “That’s a pig,” she said again. “Is it your pet?”

“That,” Angel said as he pointed to the best person in the room. “Is Fat Nuggets. My best friend in the whole world. He is the sweetest, nicest pig on this side of the Pentagram, and if anything happens to him I will do shit to you that will leave you walking crooked for years. And not in the fun way.”

Khepri just stared at him, unfazed by his threat. “I wasn’t going to do anything to... Fat Nuggets”

“You’d better not,” he said just as Fat Nuggets dragged over the Hellogs. He took the box and set it aside so that he could grab the pig and squeeze it up against his chest. “Aren’t you just the wiggly bibbliest little boy?” he cooed towards the pig.

Fat Nuggets squealed at him.

He placed Fat Nuggets back on the table, then poured himself a bowl and some milk before doing the same for the pig. Khepri watched without comment. At the far end of the table, the two lovebirds were chatting at each other at a million miles a minute. Or the princess was, Vaggie was just nodding along.

“So, what’s with the Princess this morning? She suddenly discover the joys of hardwood?” He pointed a thumb her way before crunching down on his spoon.

Khepri looked away from him for a moment. “She is preparing for an event today. There will be an art show which will be attended by some important people. She wishes to advertise the Happy Hotel there.”

He snorted. “Good fucking luck.”

“She is trying very hard,” Khepri said.

“She’s a try hard all right,” he muttered. “So how did you end up working with the girls from the Isle of Lesbos? Or are you here to kiss the Princess’ ass?”

Khepri blinked. “No. I’m here because I believe in redemption.”

“No shit?” he asked.

“None.”

“Alright,” he said then went back to eating. He stared at Khepri from the corner of his eyes and, after some inspection and observation, decided that she was weird as fuck. “So, what do you do for shits and giggles?”

“I... don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” he repeated. “Are you kidding me? How did you end up in this shithole, and I don’t mean this hotel, if you don’t know what you like doing?”

She shrugged both shoulders, a surprisingly insectile motion. “The last few years of my life were all busy with training and fighting and trying to survive. I didn’t have a lot of time for fun.”

“Well hell, I’ll have to drag you to some of my favourite joints, show you a good time, you know? What’s the point of being in hell if you don’t enjoy it?”

“I think I’m fine,” Khepri said.

Angel perked up in his seat, then leaned way forwards. “You didn’t die a virgin, did you?”

She stared at him. “No, I had sex once.”

“One... once,” he repeated. “Once?!” He realized that he was standing up, four hands flat on the table so that he could lean closer to Khepri and stare at her in a mix of bewildered confusion and horror. “That’s it,” he said while stabbing at the table with a forefinger. “We’re going to a brothel. I know a few that hardly have any STDs.”

“No thanks?” Khepri said.

“Don’t no-thanks me,” he declared. “I’m doing the world a service by introducing you to... to... Heavens above, you’ve probably only ever tried missionary!”

“It was on a couch,” Khepri explained.

“On a... on a couch?!” he screamed.

“Is everything okay?” someone asked from his left. He whirled around to see the moth-girl, Vaggie, staring at him with an eyebrow raised. “You’re getting pretty loud.”

“No shit,” he said before flicking a few thumbs over to Khepri. “You and your perky little girlfriend have got to teach this one to have a good time. But later. I’m bringing her to a whore house first. This entire thing is a travesty.”

“No thanks,” Khepri said.

Vaggie sighed. “You’ll have to take her some other time. She’s with me and Charlie today. We have an exhibit to go to and Charlie wants to have someone from the Happy there to show off.”

Angel humphed. “What, I’m not show-off-able?” he asked. “I’ll have you know I’ve escorted women far prettier than you, mothball.”

Vaggie crossed her arms over her chest and tried to stand taller. It didn’t do much, but he still sat back down and brought his cereal closer. Fat Nuggets had already finished his bowl, of course. “Surrounded by prudes,” he muttered.

The princess hopped over, all smiles and sunshine and he wondered if he could get his hands on whatever she was sniffing. “Khepri, did you want to come?” she asked.

“All I know is that you’re going to an art exhibit,” Khepri said. “I suppose I could come to help, if you want.”

“I’d love it if you came!”

Angel Dust snorted. “Just got to lick faster for that.”

A hard smack to the back of his head sent him plummeting face-first into his breakfast. Fat Nuggets squealed and started lapping up the mess.

“We’d both love your company,” Vaggie said. “It would be good to have someone quiet and civilised around.”

He had the impression that that last was aimed at him. “Hey, I’m perfectly civil.”

“Sure you are,” she said. “Are you ready to go, Khepri?”

“Is my uniform good enough for the event?” Khepri asked.

Angel Dust looked at her, then at the two girls. The princess was wearing a red suit, but this one seemed freshly pressed, with a silky white shirt under and shiny black shoes. Vaggie was wearing a dress, but longer and with stockings that actually matched. She even had some earrings on. “Huh, is this your idea of all dressed up? Because I know a few tailors that will make you look less...” he hummed as he searched for words. “Like you stole your outfits from a Goodwill having a Halloween sale.

Vaggie cuffed him behind the head.

“Ow, you bitch. Your arms are all skinny, how come you hit like a fucking truck?” he snarled.

“Shut up you,” she said. “Khepri, your uniform is fine. You’ll be representing the Happy Hotel after all.”

“Yes, and it’s very cute already,” the Princess added.She grabbed the bug girl by the hand and started dragging her towards the exit. “We’ll just touch up your make up a little, maybe add some blush, and you’ll be the cutest bug in the room. After Vaggie, of course.”

Vaggie shrugged at him. “Don’t burn the place down while we’re gone,” she said. “Oh, and take that pig off the table.”

Angel Dust watched her walk off, then turned to Fat Nuggets, his one true companion. “At lest you won’t abandon me, right Nuggets?”

The pig snorted.

***

Fat Nuggets is a canon character

A huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Eight

Charlie turned to watch Khepri’s face as their limo pulled up before the exhibit hall. If she was expecting wide-eyed awe, or gasping surprise, she was thoroughly disappointed. The only expression on her concierge’s face was blank acceptance, an expression made worse by the two big red circles on her cheeks.

“This is an event that’s held every year,” she explained as she squished her cheek against the window. Khepri might not be excited, but that only meant that Charlie had to be twice as excited to make up for it. “It’s kind of a big deal. Sorta. Lots of important people. But not my parents or anyone like that. It’s like... for the important people that still need to go around and show off that they’re important. Not the ones that are so important that them showing up would ruin everything. You know what I mean, right?”

Khepri blinked, her eyelashes fluttering because Charlie was the best at makeup. “It’s like Alexandria showing up to give someone a parking ticket?” she asked.

“I don’t know who that is,” Charlie said. “So the answer is maybe!” 

She giggled at Khepri’s expression and turned to Vaggie who was rolling her eye. “It’s going to be a few hours of us shmoozing and being schmoozed by some wanna-be big-wigs,” Vaggie said.

“That sounds rather dull, but I have participated in PR events before. What do you want me to do?” Khepri asked.

“Just follow me,” Charlie said. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Because you so obviously need us to keep you safe,” Vaggie said with another roll of her eye.

Charlie patted her girlfriend’s leg. Vaggie always got extra snippy when she was nervous. Next she would start threatening people with conjured swords. It was best to reassure her early and increase her daily dose of hugs. “I’ll be doing most of the talking. Or, well, people will be talking to me a lot. At me. Talking at me a lot. My dad’s a bit of a big deal.”

The limo slowed down, and a bit of twisting around had her ready to stick her head out of the window to see up ahead. Khepri shook her head. “There are other cars unloading passengers ahead. We’re almost there,” she said.

Charlie beamed at her. “You are useful to have around. Thanks!”

Khepri shrugged the thanks away. “I’ll do my best to stop any assassins and the like,” she said.

“Oh, no, assassins are a big faux-pas at events like these. If one of them gets caught and people learn that you sent them you’ll be in pretty deep shit,” Charlie said. 

“That’s... good to know,” Khepri said

Charlie was bouncing in her seat by the time the limo came to a full stop and a valet opened the door for her. Khepri was the first out, bending almost double to step out into the flash of a dozen cameras that went off a little early. Then she turned around and gave Charlie a hand to help her out and did the same for Vaggie who smiled in thanks. “You’re falling into the role really well,” Vaggie said.

“Thank you.”

Charlie smiled and waved at the news people and cameras and reporters and rabid fans, all of whom were barely held back by poles with velvet ropes strung between them. The flash-flash of flash bulbs and the screamed questions of ‘who are you wearing?’ and ‘are they still alive?’ made her ears buzz even as she looped her arm with Vaggie’s and tried to keep her pace unhurried and dignified.

The exhibit hall was a grandiose building. Three stories tall, with glass walls around the top two floors surrounded by balconies and a roof that rose into a pair of giant spikes that hovered on either side of an eye the size of a small car. It would occasionally turn around and stare at the people swarming around the building’s entrance in a sort of weird metaphor about the observational qualities of art. It also liked spying through the windows of the brothel across the street. That was probably a metaphor too.

They made it to the top of the short staircase at the front of the hall where a pair of burly men in too-tight suits glared at them before opening the doors. 

The moment they were within, the noise of the outside world was swallowed up and masked by a pair of traditional fiddlers in one corner and the low thrum of chatter from the guests walking around aimlessly across the hall. A few of the art pieces were making some noise too, but those were easy to ignore. 

“What kind of art is being exhibited here?” Khepri asked.

“Oh?” Charlie said. She looked around, eyeing the beautiful oil paintings of people on racks, and the actual people on racks next to them. “I think it’s called ‘the joy of torture.’ Don’t worry about the people on the torture devices. They’re orphans.”

Khepri looked less than reassured so Charlie explained.

“A small fraction of a portion of the proceeds from the event will go to the owner of the local orphanages... Anyway. We should find a nice place to stand before we...”

Charlie let her words sink into a low murmur even as her heart sank. She felt her smile go rather brittle as the first person who wanted to greet her came up and stood before her.

He was huge, easily taller than even Khepri, and so burly as to have no neck and arms that were more like tree trunks than proper limbs. “Little Hell Princess!” he roared into her face, his one eye filled with an emotion she could only call angry glee. He buzzed his wings behind him and his lower body, which was little more than a long serpentine tail, slithered across the cold marble. 

“H-hey, Angry Ron,” she said.

The man roared and slammed a fist into the side of a passing waiter. The waiter squeaked and tumbled across the floor and into a waiting iron maiden which snapped shut. “What did I tell you about my name?!” he roared. “You can call me Uncle Angry Ron!”

“Right, right,” she said. She extended a hand to shake. “How are you, Uncle Angry Ron?”

He grabbed her by the wrist and shook her entire body up and down a few times. “I am absolutely livid!” 

“So, nothing unusual, haha.” She looked around for something to distract the man with, but everyone else was, perhaps sensibly, giving the cyclops plenty of room. “Where’s Corn?” she asked. Angry Ron’s lieutenant was a bit more level-headed sometimes. 

“He is getting skulls for my chair! It was insufficiently skull-y or throne like! This made me angry!” 

Charlie pressed her hair back down. “That’s great! Maybe we can chat more later? I need to get something to drink.”

“Not some sissy drink I hope?!” He screamed.

“No, no, proper, proper blood-mead is what I’ll be drinking,” she lied.

Angry Ron smacked her shoulder hard enough to make tears spring into her eyes. “Good girl child! This makes me less angry than the other options! I will talk to you more later!” With that, he spun around, tail almost scything through her head, and slithered off back towards the tables at the far end of the room.

“Well, he was in a good mood,” Vaggie said.

Charlie rubbed at her shoulder. “Yeah. I’m so glad I got to talk to him about the Hotel,” she sulked. “Come on, I really do need a drink.”

“Who was he?” Khepri asked.

Charlie sighed as they approached the punch table. She noticed a few more people aiming to talk to her. “He’s Angry Ron. Not actually an uncle. And he’s one of the biggest providers of alcohol in the Pentagram. He’s actually kinda nice under all the murderous anger and hyperviolence.”

“I see,” Khepri said. “Are you sure that assassination is wrong?”

Charlie pat Khepri on the shoulder, then noticed someone braver than the others just nonchalantly walking over to them, a sly smile in her eyes. “Hello Charlie, Vaggie.”

“Hey Longshot,” Charlie said with a genuine smile. The girl before her was nearly a head shorter than her, but carried a rifle as tall at Vaggie across her back, the barrel glowing and the scope flashing with high-tech displays. It would have looked high-tech if it wasn’t also partially fleshy and maybe breathing a little. “How are you doing? I didn’t think I would see you here.”

“Ah well, it’s about to be the Purge, you know how it is. Lots of business all of a sudden, then nothing. I’m trying to drum up post-Purge work.” She shrugged one shoulder casually. “How’s your new friend?” She was eyeing Khepri, eyes glowing yellow under thick black bangs. 

“Oh, this is Khepri! She’s my new concierge at the Happy Hotel,” she said with a grin.

Longshot’s eyebrows rose up. “No shit? Nice to meet you, Khepri,” she said with a nod, not even trying to shake hands. “Usually this is the part where I’d try to poach you for the Milkmen, but, ah, I’m afraid you don’t have what it takes.

“Hello,” Khepri said. “What do you mean?”

Charlie’s smile grew a little fixed. “Longshot here runs a mercenary group that also sells milk. Milk that comes from the mercenaries. It’s, um, an interesting business strategy.”

“Hottest milk in Hell,” Longshot said before making finger guns at Khepri whose head was tilted to the side as if trying to make sense of the otherwise normal girl.

“It’s nice to see you again, Longshot,” Charlie said. “You should stop by the Happy. Maybe stay for a bit. I just know that you’re ripe for redemption!” 

Longshot laughed and shook her head. “You’re cute Charlie. Call me when you need someone to keep the ruffians off your lawn.” She reached out and pat Charlie on the head. 

She couldn’t resist pouting at the woman’s back as she walked off towards the buffet tables. 

There were others that looked ready to corner her into boring conversations, but Charlie had spotted someone nearby. “Look Vaggie, it’s Bedlamb!” She turned to Khepri. “Do you want to grab us something to drink, I’m going to run over to talk to an old friend!” 

“Oh, joy,” Vaggie said. 

She dragged her girlfriend over to the one person not walking around or sitting and chatting. Bedlamb had his horny head stuffed into a pile of fluffy white pillows that were well camouflaged against the fluffy white cotton covering his entire body. 

“Hello Bedlamb!” she said as she got up to her tippy toes and clasped her hands together over her heart. 

The sheep demon blinked a few times and raised his head. He inspected first her, then Vaggie, then dropped his head back into the pillows.

“The boss is a bit tired,” a reedy voice said off to their side. Charlie found herself looking at a demon so thin that his limbs might as well have been sticks, with a head absolutely covered in fluffy white hair that clashed with is green outfit. “I’m Spindle Lion. But my friends call me Dandy. But you, you my dear, can call me the farmer, because I want to plow your field.”

Vaggie was immediately between her and Spindle. “Watch it, you overgrown weed,” she growled.

“Oh hoh!” Spindle said. “How cruel. Shouldn’t you treat Bedlamb’s number one assistant with more respect. My dear boss donated those beds to your so called Happy Hotel for free if you’ll recall,” he said.

Vaggle growled. “Don’t you have any idea who you’re talking to?” 

“A woman that ought to be sucking my reed, if you know what I mean!”

Vaggie was saved from jumping at the demon’s throat by Khepri’s arrival with a tray covered in fizzy drinks. “What is going on here?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Charlie said. “I just wanted to say hi to Bedlamb, but he’s... busy. We were just leaving.”

“Now now, don’t leave yet,” Spindel said as he eyed Khepri up and down. He smiled and wobbled closer to Charlie’s concierge. “You’re a cute little bug. Did you know that blowing a dandelion gets all your wishes to come true?”

“Touch me and my bugs will consume you,” Khepri said. Spindel laughed, then paused as the entire room darkened and a palpable sense of foreboding crawled across the room, as if every demon suddenly felt a spider clinging to the back of their necks. A deep, awful scent of death skittered in from every corner and the lights overhead twitched and flickered as if they were being circled by a swarm of moths.

Khepri turned back to Charlie and Vaggie. “I have drinks,” she announced.

“Thank you, Khepri!” Charlie said even as she picked a cup from the platter Khepri was holding. She could sense all the eyes turning their way even as the oppressive feeling ebbed away. Most were fixed on her and the demon that was shaking like a leaf while backing away from them.

She was going to have to talk to Khepri about the faux-pas of unleashing devilish powers in polite company. Though that Spindle person was very rude. She wasn’t going to complain about the small break.

At least, she hoped for a break. A presence smoothly slid up next to their little group and bowed. “Bonjours, mademoiselle,” he said, voice tainted by a faint accent. Like French, but worse. 

“Um, hi,” she said as she looked up at him. The first thing that caught her attention wasn’t his appearance, but the scent in the air around him. It was a strong perfume, but enticing and sweet, like flowers in full bloom. Maybe, she thought, it came from the lily pinned to his smoking tuxedo’s lapel. 

He was tall and rather plump. Black fur covered his entire body except for a white streak that was combed back along his head and that continued along his bushy tail. “Tu dois être Charlie,” he said. “I ‘ave ‘eard much about you.”

He was very nice, very polite. Attractive even. She shook her head and smiled back. But of course, he didn’t hold a candle to her Vaggie.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said with her most welcoming smile. “And yes, I am Charlie. This is my girlfriend Vaggie, and our Hotel’s best employee and concierge Khepri.”

“Enchenté,” he replied with a short bow. “The damels ‘ere are so different than those in my native country. But I am being impolite in not introducing myself. I am Heartbreaker. Truly, the pleasure is all mine.”

***  
Look, a friend from the past! 

Some OCs provided by the Black Birds

A huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Nine

Rushing over to Pentagram on little more than a whim, and so close to the next Purge, was something of a risk. But Nikos Vasil had always thrived on walking the knife edge between the obscenely dangerous and the incredibly profitable. 

Of course, that walk was only made possible thanks to his own superior abilities and skills when it came to manipulating the simple, simpering fools that always surrounded him. So many fragile little souls, so easy to crush underfoot or to wrap to his own use. 

Was it any surprise that he had risen to such power in his own little corner of Hell. Just him, his closest family, and a few hundred thralls to throw at any threat or to distract the Exterminators during a Purge.

And yet he was still far from satisfied. There was something missing. A desire left unfulfilled that nagged at him. So he would send his thralls out to search and to seek.

That was why he now stood in a grand exhibit room, surrounded by beautiful souls just waiting for his delicate touch. To think that this little diversion from his quest would lead him to stand before the Princess of Hell herself. Well, that was merely the sort of fortune he deserved for all his hard work.

The Princess smiled up at him. He couldn’t tell if she was falling for his wiles just yet, but it would happen. If not now, then soon enough. He merely had to lay the groundwork, perhaps visit her a few more times and separate her from the filth hanging onto her arm. Or maybe the moth girl could join his harem as well. 

His men had urges too, after all, and if she was good enough for the Princess, she was certainly good enough for him.

“So, mister Heartbreaker, what sort of business do you do here?” the Princess asked. 

She was looking at him with guileless, innocent eyes. He grinned. “Ah, I’m ‘ere on a bit of business. Nothing more. I just thought that meeting the incredible Princess of ‘ell ‘erself would be very much worth my time. You are, of course, as beautiful as they claim.”

There was a flash of jealousy from the girl hanging off of the Princess’ arm, but it was quick and fleeting, disappearing as soon as he shot her a disarming smile and fluffed out his tail behind him.

“That’s neat. What sort of business do you do?” she asked.

“Ah, a bit of this, a bit of that. Mostly, I work with people, ‘elping them communicate and come together to serve a greater purpose. It is ‘ard but fulfilling work, eh?”

The Princess nodded eagerly. “That sounds incredible,” she said. “Maybe we could use your help with our Happy Hotel? We just opened this last week!”

“Charlie,” the woman behind the Princess said, not her pretty little date, but the tall gangly one in the red outfit. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

Nikos had never been beyond befriending the help, especially not when they were getting between him and what he wanted. “Now now, dear... Khepri, yes? No need to worry, I am an ‘onest man, oui?”

She stared at him, completely expressionless even as he poured just a little more power into trying to seduce him into listening to what he said.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Charlie, this man is a villain. He’s dangerous,” the help said.

Heartbreaker laughed. “I am no such thing, please,” he said. “I am merely a Canadian businessman ‘ere on business. You ‘ave nothing to fear.” He moved just a little closer to lay a friendly hand on the Princess’ upper arm. The contact would help, and then perhaps a few suggestions while asking about her stupid hotel would convince her to dismiss the servant.

A strong hand wrapped around his wrist. The Khepri girl was locking eyes with him.

“Khepri,” the Princess said. “What are you doing?”

Without ever looking aside, the concierge answered in a low hiss. “This man is dangerous,” she said.

“That’s no reason to make a scene,” the Princess said. “I’ve found him really nice so far.

The concierge’s neutral face remained, but he had the impression that those words had touched a cord. With a swift gesture, he yanked his arm back and folded it behind his back, turning his grimace of pain into a gentle smile. “Perhaps, my dear Princess, it would be nice if your concierge and I ‘ad a little chat. Just a few words on the balcony, yes?”

The Princess looked confused and suspicious.

“Yes,” the concierge said. “I would like that.”

Surprised, but willing to play along, Heartbreaker delivered his best smile to the Princess and her girlfriend, then bowed at the waist. “In that case, we shall certainly return momentarily. That is, if you do not mind telling me all about this ‘otel of yours?”

“That sounds great,” the Princess said. She was eyeing her concierge with worry, but a small push of his power and he worked to smooth that away. She was awfully resistant, but not completely so. 

“Come,” the concierge ordered before taking the lead and walking past him.

He stared with one eyebrow perked, but followed after her. “So, you seem to ‘ave something against me,” he began as nonjudgmentally as possible. If he could just pin the right emotion and suppress it, that would make his life far easier. He might not even need to dispose of her.

“I have questions, yes,” she said.

He hummed as he followed her up a glass stairwell, then around a corner and through a doorway into the fresh night air. Or as fresh as any air in a place as dreadfully warm and dry as the Pentagram. “Well, ask away, I suppose. I do not want to make enemies ‘ere, not even of the ‘elp.” He pushed with his power and... nothing.

Frowning a little, he started to poke and prod, even as the girl led him to a quieter corner and then spun around with insectile grace to face him. It wasn’t that his power wasn’t reaching her. It was more that she was... big, bigger than she seemed, certainly. 

“Are you Nikos Vasil, also known as the supervillain Heartbreaker?”

His heard missed a beat, but an easy smile split his features. “Is my illustrious past catching up to me?” he asked. “Don’t worry, I ‘ad no bad intentions in mind for you or your employer.” He pushed as hard as he could to make it seem like the truth to her. A simple trick, one of the first he learned in Hell.

She grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, spun him around and shoved him against a cement pillar with enough force that his head cracked against the hard surface. 

He had not noticed how truly tall she was. Only the stick-thin limbs and gangly form. Now he was having an excellent opportunity to have an up-close look at the girl as she pinned him to the wall. “Answer my question. Are you Nikos Vasil?” she asked.

He flailed at her with his power, even as he worked to maintain his smile. “Yes, yes I am dearest. But certainly this is all an ‘uge misunderstanding?”

“Why are you at this event?”

“To meet and greet new people, of course, I ‘ave a business to--”

She glared, just a tiny tightening of her eyes, followed by a low skittering that preempted a lot of insects pouring out of the cuffs of her jacket. “The truth,” she insisted.

“I’m ‘ere to find new friends, new people to join my cause, that’s all I’m at this event for,” he said. He was beginning to sweat, and was certain that his coiffure was off. Worse, some of those jackals from the media were just a few floors below their balcony. Cameras were already aimed their way.

“Were you trying to turn Charlie into a thrall?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” he said.

This time her eyes narrowed properly and the insects along her arms started to skitter. It was a terrifying moment, but he had survived worse. Quick as a snake, he reached a hand into his tuxedo jacket, pulled out a handgun, and planted it under her chin. “I am so terribly sorry,” he mocked before pulling the trigger.

The concierge’s head exploded.

Her grip on his clothes tightened. The area around him darkened.

Heartbreaker was beginning to think that perhaps the Princess of Hell and her entourage were too big a target for him just yet.

Bugs, far too many of him to count, slid out of the shadows, up along the concierge’s body, and to her head. So close, he was able to witness with agonizing clarity as the concierge’s head reformed from the mass of insects. Then a few flying bugs replaced her hat right between her antenna.

She raised her free hand, wrapped it around his handgun, and flung it off the side of the roof. “I still have questions.”

“Go ahead,” he breathed. 

“Why are you in this city?”

“I,” he began, then hesitated. Perhaps the truth would not hurt. “I’m chasing after my wayward sun; ‘e is ‘iding in this cesspit.”

“Regent?” she asked. “Jean-Paul?”

He swallowed. “That’s the one, yes. I think ‘e is ‘ere, somewhere. I will find ‘im, of course, and bring ‘im back to the fold.”

“We shall see,” she replied.

Smiling again, this time hoping to disarm her, he shook his head a little. “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot, yes? You do know that attempting to kill someone at such an event would be a major faux-pas, yes? It would reflect badly upon your employer.”

She seemed to think on that for a few long, long seconds. “You are right.” He didn’t have time to feel relief before she turned around and started dragging him to the edge of the balcony. “When you have recovered enough to move again, you will leave this city,” she told him. 

“O-of course, it is as you wish,” he said. He was looking down now, wondering why the balconies had no proper rails and if a three story fall could be survived. Perhaps if he landed on the journalists below?

Then the darkness unleashed a swarm of flying things with many small teeth and pinchers.

He hardly felt the drop as he was consumed in midair.

***

Charlie was busy sipping at a cocktail that Vaggie had made for her at the little bar, enjoying a few minutes of peace and quiet while staring at a sculpture of children frolicking around a Maypole. It was nice and colourful, and if they replaced the barbed wire with proper cloth and took off the bleeding effigy of a demon tied to the pole, it would actually make for an art piece that catered to her tastes.

“I’m back,” Khepri’s voice said from right behind her.

Her concierge and favourite employee didn’t look any worse for wear, though something immediately jumped out to Charlie. “What happened to your make-up?”

Khepri reached to her cheeks where Charlie had added some blush, then rubbed them a little. “It wore off,” she said.

“Well, that’s no good,” Charlie said. “We’ll have to find something in your complexion anyway, something that pops against your darker skin tone.” She nodded. “Oh, where’s mister Heartbreaker? He was really sweet.”

“He had to leave,” Khepri said.

“That’s too bad. Did you have a nice chat?” 

Slowly, Khepri nodded. “I learned some interesting things, yes,” she replied.

Charlie was happy for her friend. It wasn’t always easy to enjoy events like these.

***

A huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Ten

This chapter has some direct quotes from: My Immortal

***

Angel Dust placed four arms on his hips. “And what if you get lost?” he asked.

Khepri stared at him, face blank and uniform entirely unruffled despite the way he was leaning in towards her. “I will not get lost,” she said.

He snorted, raising one hand to inspect his nails. Then he frowned. He was due for a manicure. “Look, toots, you’re new to the Pentagram. It’s a confusing place. One minute you’re buying drugs from a guy off a street corner, the next you’re waking up in some apartment six blocks over with stuff leaking out of all your holes. Trust me, you don’t want to head out alone.” 

Khepri blinked slowly, then stared around the Hotel’s lobby as if looking for a distraction. “I will be fine,” she said. “Razzle will drive the limo to town. That will bring me to the centre of the city, then I’ll walk until I reach my destination. I can take a cab to return.”

“Do you even have any cash on you?” he asked, rubbing forefinger and thumb together.

Khepri nodded. “Charlie gave me an advance on my first week’s pay. I should have enough.”

“Uh-huh,” he said. She started walking towards the door with the stiff gait he usually associated with someone experimenting with buttplugs. In this case he figured it was the rod up her backside giving her trouble. “So where are we going?” he asked as they stepped into the open mid-morning air.

Khepri made a noise that might have been a sigh as she walked up to the Limo, opened the back door, and slipped in. He followed after her, staring at the interior with appreciation. It was a pretty swaggy ride. “We are going to look for an old friend of mine,” she said.

“Thought you were only dead for like a week,” he said.

She sat primly on the far seat, back to the window between the main section and the driver’s cabin. “Why are you coming?” she asked.

Angel Dust lunged across the rearmost seat, legs splayed out every which way. “I just wanna make sure you’re nice and safe, sweetheart.”

“That is a lie.”

He snorted. “Yeah, alright,” he admitted. It wasn’t exactly his best bit of lying. “I’m bored out of my fucking mind. Even Fat Nuggets is bored. Do you know how many porn channels they get at the Hotel?”

“No,” Khepri said, proving that she was a prude.

“None! Not even the pay per wank ones. They’re all locked behind this child safety feature!” He waved his arms around to emphasize the unfairness of it all. “A child safety feature! Who in Hell came up with that? How am I supposed to find footage of myself getting spitroasted to fall asleep to?”

Khepri stared a little more. She liked that, he realised, staring. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“You could begin by sneaking in some booze. None. Nada. Not a drop of the good shit. When I asked, the Princess told me that water is healthier. Fucking water!”

“That’s... unfortunate, I suppose,” Khepri said. 

He pointed a finger right at her. “Damn right it is. I love the free rent and all, but I’m dying over at the Hotel. Happy my well toned celebrity ass. Do you know when the last time I sucked a dick was?”

“I don’t want to.”

He blinked, then glared at her. “Nearly forgot that you’re the prudest prude that’s ever pruded. Tell you what, give me three hundred bucks and I’ll let you ride my mustache. That’s like, half your cab fair.”

“You don’t have a mustache,” she pointed out.

“It’s a figure of speech.”

Khepri finally looked away from him. “We’ve arrived,” she announced. Sure enough, the limo started slowing down, then pulled up to the sidewalk, sideswiping a parkometer as it climbed onto the curb.

Angel Dust stepped out, one long leg at a time, then fluffed up his chest and straightened his jacket. They were smack in downtown Pentagram, in one of the ritziest parts of the city, and more than one eye was on the white and gold limo. He was, as his boss had once called it, on display.

Khepri stood out of the limo with none of the grace he had just displayed, moving more like one of those branch bugs than someone worth paying attention to. She adjusted her cap and looked around. “This place seems busy,” she said.

“Yeah, all of Hell’s filled up lately. Like, by a whole lot,” he said. “Place is getting a little crowded. Next purge can’t happen soon enough.” Khepri looked across the crowds, then started walking at a brisk pace. He had to jog a bit to catch up. “So, who’re we looking for? Got a hot date?”

Khepri was silent for a little while, just walking and ducking around some of the fools too slow to get out of their way. “We’re looking for an old friend of mine. His name is Jean-Paul, or Alec. Or Regent.”

“That’s a lot of names, ain’t it?” he asked. “What’s he look like?”

“I don’t know.”

He snorted. “What a good friend. Alright, so where is he?” 

“I don’t know.”

Angel Dust almost tripped and had to grab Khepri’s shoulder to steady himself. “You don’t know? There’s like, a million people around here. Probably ten times that. How are you going to find this idiot?”

Khepri paused to meet his eyes. “I’m looking for him already,” she said.

He looked around at the throngs of demons walking around, arguing, getting into fistfights and generally enjoying the pre-lunch burst of activity, then back to Khepri. “Are you serious? What are you going to do, stare at all of these people?”

“I’ve stared at these people already. We need to move to extend my range.” She frowned just a little bit, then nodded. “My power allows me to see everything around me.”

“That’s... creepy as fuck, and probably useful,” he said. “Can you see under people’s clothes?” He ran a hand over his stomach. “Like what you see here?”

“I can’t see through clothes,” she said.

“You said that really quickly,” he pointed out. “Have something you wanna say? You know, the first step to redemption is admitting just how big of a pervert you are.”

“Have you?” she asked. At his confused look, she clarified. “Admitted how much of a pervert you are.”

“Babe, I’m literally this city’s biggest pornstar.”

Khepri eyed him, then started walking again. “I think I found him.”

Angel Dust blinked back at her. “Wait, seriously?”

The bug girl was quiet as she plodded along, weaving through the crowd at an even pace while never looking anywhere but forward. He kept up with her, but was soon grumbling under his breath about annoying bitches and people who walked too damned fast. 

Khepri stopped in front of a theater. The building looked like it had been built from a re-repurposed church with a booth at the front and a huge marquee glowing above twin entrances. The steeple at the top was holding up a chrome sign that read ‘Dante’s.’

“This shithole?” Angel said. He recognized the place well enough. It was two streets away from the best shops, almost in the centre of the Pentagram. Prime real estate, but it had been there forever. “They only play self-insert fanfics here. Ones that don’t actually finish.”

“I’m not sure,” Khepri said as she eyed the building. “But there’s someone here that might be Regent. Maybe. You know of this place?”

Angel Dust shrugged one shoulder. “I have a couple of clients that like getting blown while watching a show. This place has its own whores though.”

“I... see,” she said before walking towards the front door. She was stopped by Angel’s hand around her bicep.

He cringed back, letting go of her as if she was on fire. “Look,” he began, then paused, wondering why he was bothering to help her in the first place. “The owner of this place, Dante, he’s a real weirdo. The plays here are all, well, they’re shit.”

Khepri shrugged and walked over. The booth by the door was empty, probably because nothing was on at that moment, so she tried the door. It didn’t budge.

“Oh well, we can come back some other day,” Angel Dust said.

Khepri frowned at the door. It clicked, then swung open.

“Uh,” he said as he noticed the waist-high pillar of bugs on the other side of the door a moment before it broke apart and scurried into every shadow. “The fuck?” 

Khepri stepped in and he jumped to follow her, staring at every corner to see where the bugs had gone, but finding no sign of them. They crossed a dimly lit corridor, then stepped into a grand hall, benches set in neat rows all the way up to a stage with velvety red curtains behind it. A man stood on stage, a conductor’s baton in one hand that he was waving around towards the actors on the scene. “My Immortal, chapter four. Begin!” he said.

One of the actresses, covered from head to toe in black clothes and with a pound of make-up on stepped up. “DRACO!” she shouted. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

Another actor, this one a spindly marionette with jointed arms and legs that moved with jerky, sporadic motions, stepped onto the stage. The actor groaned, then spoke in a flat voice. “Ebony?”

“What?” the actress snapped.

The two leaned over each other, then, in the worse parody of sex Angel Dust had ever seen, started wiggling as if they were having a seizure. “Oh my,” the actress said, deadpan. “He put his thingie into my you-know-what and we are doing it for the first time. Oh! Oh! Oh!”

Khepri tilted her head back, as if she didn’t want to see what was happening. Angel Dust could understand, he was feeling a little faint, and he had seen some shit. “That’s him,” she said.”

“Who?” Angel asked. 

“The one she called Draco, that’s Regent.” Khepri pointed to the marinette boy still dry humping the actress’s leg.

On stage, the man leading the play swished his baton. “Enter Dumbledore!” he called.

A huge man in a colourful robe burst onto the scene and pointed at the two on the ground. “What the hell are you doing you motherfuckers?!”

“Perfect!” the play’s director shouted. “Beautiful, wondrous. Well done, Dumbledore. Ebony, a bit more emotion, you need to make the audience feel the unexplainable love that Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way has for Draco. And Draco... oh, Draco, you really need to start acting properly. This is clearly not enough. But we can discuss that later.” The director spun around, face twisting into an ear-to-ear grin. “Because it seems like we have an audience.”

“Hello,” Khepri said as she walked down the middle aisle towards the stage. Somewhat reluctant, Angel followed her. “I apologize for interrupting your practice. My name is Khe-- Skitter. And I’m looking for someone.”

The marionette boy jerked around, head spinning so fast his black wig flew off to reveal a crown sitting atop his head. “Taylor?” 

Khepri blinked, then her lips twitched up at the corners. “Hello, Alec,” she said. “It’s been a while.”

“Now, now, Regent, why don’t you introduce all of us to your fine friends here?” the conductor asked. He was wearing a manic grin as he eyed first Khepri, then Angel. “They seem to be just the sort of people I would need in some of my plays.”

“Fuck off, Dante,” Regent said as he wobbled to the edge of the stage, then jumped off. Ethereal stings reached out from every joint and to the ceiling, keeping him afloat so that he landed with surprising grace before clattering forwards. “Skitter, you imposible bitch, what are you doing in Hell?” he asked. “I was expecting Imp and Tattles before you.”

Khepri shook her head. “No, those two are fine, I think. I hope. As for me, I might have done some bad things.”

“Like robbing banks and taking over cities?” Regent asked. 

“Yes,” she said.

The marionette's face clacked and clicked as it shifted into a wooden smirk. “Figures,” he said before turning towards Angel. For the first time, he noticed that the crown on his head was gold-painted wood. “And who’s your friend?”

“This is Angel Dust, he stays at the hotel where I work,” Khepri explained.

“Wait,” Regent said as he raised both arms and let them bob in the air. “You work in a hotel? How the mighty have fallen.”

Angel snorted. “You’re one to talk, Draco.”

Regent pointed at Angel. “Fuck you, fuck-o. Are you Skitter’s new boytoy? Because I’ve got to say, she’s been lowering her standards a whole lot lately if that’s the case.”

“Angel is not my boytoy,” Khepri said. She shook her head as if to dismiss the idea and Angel wasn’t sure if he should feel offended by that or not. “I saw your dad.”

And just like that, Regent was all business. “Where?” 

“At an art exhibit, yesterday afternoon. I think I injured him, but he might be back. He was here looking for you.”

Regent huffed. “Fuck. And I actually liked it here. Dante’s a prick, but other than an hour or two of this theater bullshit he’s pretty chill.” His arm spun around and stopped under his chin. “Where’s the old fucker now?”

“Last I saw him he was falling from the third floor of an art gallery.”

Regent blinked. “Did you throw him off the third floor of an art gallery?”

Khepri was silent for a long moment. “I’m trying to get better.”

“This is why I always liked you better than Lisa,” he said.

“Can one of you clue me in here?” Angel asked, hand on hips and head tilted to the side. He noticed Dante dismissing some of his actors before starting to walk over at a slow pace. 

“Shut up, spiderboy,” Regent said. 

“Want to start something, Pinnochio?” 

Khepri stared between then, then pressed both palms to her face. “This was a mistake.”

***

A huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	12. Chapter 12

#  **Chapter Eleven**

“Where,” began Killjoy in a saccharine voice as she leaned way down to look her in the eyes. “Is my fucking coffee?” she hissed.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” she said as she tried to take the empty mug in the reporter’s hand. Katie yanked it up and out of her reach. 

“What time is it?” the reporter asked. She looked around the room as if that would answer her question, but all there was to see were a lot of crewmen setting up lights and moving cameras into position. The in-studio audience wasn’t there yet, and the director was napping in the corner, a pile of notes on his lap. “Oh, would you look at that, it’s forty minutes before the next record and I haven’t had my second mug yet. Do you know what that means?”

“No?” she said as she cringed back, her winged arms coming up to wrap around her chest.

“It means that I’m about to go on air with only about six ounces of that sweet, sweet ketamine. Which means that I might actually have to endure Tom’s bullshit for an entire hour. I swear if I have a headache by the time the set’s over the next time people read the crawl it’ll contain your fucking obituary, got it?”

“I-I can get you another mug, and put your drugs in it,” she tried.

Katie smashed her mug on the ground. “I don’t want another mug, you incompetent bird-brained bimbo. I swear if you think I’ll let an overgrown B-cup chicken like you report on the same fucking network as me without kissing my ass just right you’ve got another thing coming. Now, fuck off.”

“Yes ma’am!” she squeaked before scurrying away. She dodged some of the boom operators and then slipped past the paparazzi stalking the watercooler at the back before reaching the offices. It was quieter there. Only interns like her, and a few editors working on snippets of footage for the next report were around.

Swallowing, she shuffled towards the back of the room, hoping to find something quiet and productive to do that was as far away from Killjoy as possible.

“Hey, birdy,” someone called, and with a suppressed wince, she turned to see who it was. Tom Trench was watching her, masked face tilted to one side. “That cunt really wrung you out, huh?” he asked. “You okay?”

She tried a smile on. “I’m fine, Mister Trench,” she said.

“Eh, don’t listen to that bitch. You’re doing fine here,” he said. “How about you check the feeds for anything hot going on. Maybe build up a nice demon interest story to go on air later.”

“I can do that,” she said. “That’s what I’ve been wanting to do for a while now, report on the happenings on the street. Or maybe the weather. Heather Feather Weather could be my screen name.”

Tom laughed, the sound distorted by his mask and reached up to pat her shoulder. “Cute, kid. You’ve certainly got the looks for weather reporting. I’m sure you’ll have all sorts of degenerates wanking it off to you telling them about the chance of rain in no time.” He smacked her on the butt as he walked by. “How about you come to my trailer after we air, I can give you some... professional advice,” he said before winking and moving on.

She felt her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach as the reporter walked off. But at least she had some work now. She shivered and tried not to feel too disgusted with herself before moving out of the offices and slipping into the washrooms. 

She fiddled with the tap for a moment, cursing her lack of hands until it came on and she could wet the tips of her feathers in lukewarm water. She bent over and splashed some on her face, then stood and looked at herself in the mirror.

In this life as in the last, she was attractive enough to be on air. Sharp cheekbones, a cute button nose, big pouty eyes, and all framed by long red hair that she tried to compliment with her green suit top.

She could have passed for human if it wasn’t for the two long, feathery wings she had for arms and her inverted bird legs. She placed both wings on the edges of the sink and allowed herself a moment to recentre everything. She could do this, she was tough, a fighter, she told herself.

Back in the offices, she slipped by some of her coworkers who were talking shit about Killjoy and started to look for an unused computer to sit behind. 

“Hey, you looking for something?” one of the girls that worked there, Jo-Anne, asked. She was an unfortunate intern with the face of a bull and no chance at all of ever being on the fun end of a camera. 

“Yeah,” she said. “Is there a free computer?”

“Oh, sure,” Jo-Anne said. The wominotaur waved towards the back corner. “Take mine if it’s only for a bit.”

She thanked the girl and hurried over to the station. The mouse and keyboard were tricky to use, and it always left her primaries bent out of shape, but she managed to open a browser and log in to BirdCage Online, the leading place for people to shitpost about everything and nothing. 

> **Welcome to the BirdCage Online Message Boards**
> 
> You are currently logged in, Tender Thighs
> 
> You are viewing:
> 
>   * Threads you have replied to
>   * AND Threads that have new replies
>   * Thread OP is displayed
>   * Ten posts per page
>   * Last ten messages in private message history
>   * Threads and private messages are ordered by user custom preference
>   * You have 0 bans, you absolute fucking pussy
> 
> ■
> 
> **♦ Topic: Golden Morning Victim’s Resources**
> 
> In: Boards ► News ►Pentagram ►Scams
> 
> **♦ Topic: Exterminator Weapons on the Cheap**
> 
> In: Boards ► News ►Pentagram ►Sales
> 
> **♦ Topic: Consumer warning: Angry Ron ale has bits of bone in it**
> 
> In: Boards ► News ►Pentagram ►Alcohol
> 
> **♦ Topic: Vox to increase ads on all platforms by 600% next cycle**
> 
> In: Boards ► News ►Pentagram ►Media
> 
> **♦ Topic: Heartbreaker of Canada Eaten by Punk’s Swarm at Exhibit (Video)**
> 
> In: Boards ► News ►Pentagram ►Events
> 
> **♦ Topic: Purges and You: How not to get fucked**
> 
> In: Boards ► News ►Pentagram ►Informational

She sighed as she kept scrolling, then opened a few of the more interesting topics in new tabs. She ended up dropping most of them. They were too full of shitposters and idiots screaming at each other. Anyone who tried to wrangle things back on topic was infracted by the mods and then banned.

Growing a little desperate, she clicked on the Heartbreaker thread. The original poster was a well-known paparazzi, probably shilling for views, but it was the kind of thing that might end up on the news anyway. Maybe if she got a headstart writing the segment she wouldn’t have to spend the night polishing Tom’s bayonet. 

> **♦ Topic: Heartbreaker of Canada Eaten by Punk’s Swarm at Exhibit (Video)**
> 
> In: Boards ► News ►Pentagram ►Events
> 
> ► Papa Ratzi (Original Poster) 
> 
> Posted on Whenever:
> 
> Hello little demons and demonettes! 
> 
> It’s I, Papa Ratzi, bringing you all the news that are hot. 
> 
> As most of you know there was a big who’s who party over at the Icipherum Art Exhibit and Brothel last night. All the folks that are worth knowing showed up and the usual fashionistas, gossip mongers and other assorted filth will probably be filling the mags with all the juicy deets. 
> 
> But I, Papa Ratzi, only go for the juiciest of meats. 
> 
> Heartbreaker, a well known and well beloved French Canadian, well on his way to becoming one of the more influential warlords in his cold little corner of Hell, was at the exhibit last night, chatting up the ladies and wooing the crowds. Rumour has it that he set his sights on our very own Princess of Hell, Charlie Magne. 
> 
> But things didn’t go well for our intrepid Canadian charmer. It seems that after a bit of a chat he left escorted by the Princess’s as of yet unnamed concierge. 
> 
> Now, as you all ought to know, dismembering, castrating, slicing, dicing, murdering, raping, killing and otherwise being a violent twit is a big no-no at these who’s who parties. At least, that’s the general idea. The Princess’s concierge had another idea.
> 
> Unfortunately, I only caught the tail end of Heartbreaker’s little tiff with the concierge. Video available here: LINK
> 
> Seems like_ bugging _the Princess is a bad idea.
> 
> What will this mean for Heartbreaker and his harem? Will the Princess get a smack on the wrist (or elsewhere) for her little friend’s misbehaviour?
> 
> Only time will tell!
> 
> _(Showing Page 1 of some)_
> 
> ►HotDogUnderpants
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> First
> 
> Also, fake and gay. You can tell because the pixels.
> 
> ►CraziestSith1487
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> Too many fucking bees.
> 
> ►BrightFlare76
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> So what’ll actually happen to the bug girl. Also, she’s kinda cute.
> 
> ►FizziestFault
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> @ BrightFlare You’s sick in da head.
> 
> No fuk da bug
> 
> ►SanityMax (Acolyte of the Fallen)
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> We are all here in this deepest of Hells in order to repent for our failures to the Great Ones. May we forever prosper, awaiting the day of Their return. May the Twins guide us, the Great Lord speed our demise. May the Lady of Many Wings watch over our future. May the Lord of Waters quench our thirst, and may the Lord of Fires burn ever hotter in this Hell with us. 
> 
> Amen.
> 
> ►TheVeth
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> Rend the FLESH! Tear the soul! Ride the meat bicycle! 
> 
> ►Arrrc
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> @ TheVeth, dude, chill the fuck out.
> 
> ►PneumaticHeart (MilkMan)
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> I think that’s Khepri, Princess’ Charlie’s Concierge.
> 
> ►HubrisPrime
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> The idiot probably insulted the Princess. The concierge is just her bodyguard doing her job. It’s hardly newsworthy that the Princess of Hell has a bodyguard that you shouldn’t fuck with.
> 
> **\--USER HAS BEEN INFRACTED--**
> 
> **REASON:** ‘Cause.
> 
> -LawfulSky (Moderator)
> 
> ►Dame Yog
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> Khepri? Bug powers. Holy shit, that’s that hero from Earth Bet that went all apeshit on Scion. 

  
  


She stared at the last line, heart suddenly beating a thousand times faster. She felt faint. “No,” she whispered. “That can’t be right.”

Pulling the keyboard closer, she started hitting keys, then cursed when her wingtips kept failing to type properly.

  
  


> _ (Showing Page 74 of some) _
> 
> ►FeatheryBody
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> I’m just saying, the game was kinda crap. It was all grind-grind-grind all along. 0/10 would not play again
> 
> ►Charlie Magne (Verified) (Princess of Hell) (Very Gay) (DO NOT FUCK WITH OR HER DAD WILL END YOU) 
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> Guys, it was all just a misunderstanding, I’m sure. Khepri said so herself. Mister Heartbreaker was being very mean. And technically, since he was consumed off site, it wasn’t against the rules! Also he shot her first!
> 
> ►Normal
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> Papa Ratzi is a big doo-doo head
> 
> @ Charlie Mange fuk U
> 
> ►General Sink
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> Can y’all shut up about that? I want to talk about the damned video.
> 
> **\--USER HAS BEEN BANNED FOR: 3 DAYS--**
> 
> **REASON:** It’s a moderator’s job to keep a thread on-topic. Stop trying to do my job, dipshit.
> 
> -LawfulSky (Moderator)
> 
> ►SlappyAndSad
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> Oh snap bitch. Banhamared
> 
> ►Tender Thighs
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> Hey everyone. Was that concierge called skitter? Or maybe Weaver?

  
  
  


She paused, bringing the joint of her wing up to her mouth to bite down on it before realising what she was doing. Trying to stand still while bashing F5 to refresh only had her getting more and more nervous, moreso when any reply appeared that had nothing to do with her question.

Then it happened. 

  
  


> ►Charlie Magne (Verified) (Princess of Hell) (Very Gay) (DO NOT FUCK WITH OR HER DAD WILL END YOU) 
> 
> Replied on Whenever:
> 
> @ Tender Thighs
> 
> Yes! Khepri said that she’s had a lot of names like that. 

  
  


She stood up from the desk and walked away. Her breathes were coming in ragged gasps and a few of the other interns gave her calculating looks as she walked past them and back to the bathroom. 

The door locked with a click behind her and she allowed herself to slide down until she was sitting on the floor. Her wings came up to hide her as she gasped and choked on empty air.

There was a knock. “Hey,” came Jo-Anne’s concerned voice. “Emma sweetie, are you okay?”

***

A huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity! Also, shout-out to Sammax who helped with this one’s... thisness.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Twelve

Things were going well for Charlie.

Not perfectly. Far from it. But well enough. Her hotel had a client (even if he was technically there for free), one whole employee that wasn’t her or Vaggie or the goat bois, and was even getting some press online thanks to Khepri’s... proactive response at the exhibit.

It could have been better, but she was still quite proud with what she had so far. It was a lot farther along than she expected to be. If she was still at home, her mom would be putting a gold star on her activities calendar, like the stars that led navigators astray. 

She was skipping along one of the empty corridors on the upper floor, taking note of the many, many things that still needed doing to make the Happy Hotel the happiest and best hotel in Hell, when she heard a rumble from outside. 

Leaning close to a window, she saw a cab screech to a halt by the front, and three indistinct forms stepped out. One had the smooth grace that she knew was Angel’s, the other was tall and lanky and probably Khepri, but the third, who moved with jerky motions, was unrecognizable.

“A new guest?” she wondered aloud before she felt her face splitting into a wide grin. With a hop to take off, she rushed down the stairs, taking them two at a time to get to the first floor as quickly as possible.

She was too late to be the one to open the door for Khepri and Angel Dust and their friend, but she did arrive in time to see them standing in the lobby. “Place looks alright,” the boy between her concierge and only client said. “Kinda fancy. Could use a bit of cleaning, but not shit.”

Khepri nodded. “It’s serviceable.”

Charlie’s grin only grew. Her Hotel was serviceable! “Hello!” she said in her outdoor voice as she bounced from halfway up the stairs all the way to the ground. “And welcome to the Happy Hotel!” she raised both arms in a wide salute.

“The fuck,” the boy said. He tilted his head to one side, the bit of sting connecting it to his body straining. “You’re in a good mood. Hey, Skitter, who’s the bundle of joy?”

“This is Charlie. She runs the Hotel,” Khepri said. “She’s the Princess of Hell.”

“Princess, huh?” the boy said. For the first time, Charlie noticed the wooden crown on his head and the rather flamboyant silken shirt he was wearing, its sleeves rolled up to expose thin wooden limbs. “Hello, Princess, I’m Regent,” he said with an extravagant bow that had all of his limbs clicking and clacking. “Puppet extrordinaire and currently a player at Dante’s theater.” He looked to his side. “Oh, and I’m Skitter’s friend.”

Charlie suppressed the urge to clap, instead she looked at Khepri and smiled. “You have friends?” she asked.

Angel Dust snorted, Regent let out a cackle and Khepri stared at her extra hard.

Slapping both hands over her mouth, Charlie shook her head. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way!” she said. “It’s just that you’re so quiet and introverted that I didn’t think you’d be able to make friends.” She realized what she was saying a moment after it had been said and shook her head harder. “No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that either.”

Angel Dust and Regent were both laughing, but it was Regent who spoke first. He wrapped an arm over Khepri’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “You should have seen her when we first met. She was the most awkward girl in a ten block radius, and I don’t just say that because she had filled the area with bugs.”

“I was not awkward,” Khepri lied.

The fact that Charlie knew Khepri enough to know that it was a lie was both satisfying and disheartening. Lying was, after all, bad.

“She fell in loooove,” Regent began, stretching the word out obscenely. “With the leader of our gang. It was like watching a kitten chasing after a laser pointer, but sadder. As if the kitten thought the pointer was, like, the cure to her depression.”

“Please stop,” Khepri asked, deadpan.

Angel Dust, on the other hand, was grinning wide. “No, no, continue. I want to hear more about how Khepri’s life was shit. It makes me happy in a way I can’t describe.”

Regent snorted, but shook his head. “Nah. Skitter got better. Then she was all gung-ho warlord and stuffing bees into people. Too busy for all that drama stuff.”

“I can’t tell if that’s kinky or not,” Angel Dust said.

“Eh, she made it awkward. It could have been hot, in a weird, gross sort of way.”

“Wait,” Angel said. “That dude she fell in looove with, is that the one guy she fucked?”

Regent turned towards Khepri, then sighed. “Dammit Skitter, you only ever did it with Brian? I know that once you go black you don't go back, but that doesn’t mean you give up. Imp said that you two were super shit in bed.”

“Imp... saw,” Khepri said.

“Every glorious minute of it,” Regent replied with a grin that Charlie could only describe as shit-eating.

Charlie could tell that Khepri was feeling rather uncomfortable, so she jumped in the moment there was a lull in the conversation. “So, Mister Regent, are you here to register as a guest of the Happy Hotel?”

“Huh?” the puppet man said. He looked around the lobby, then back at Charlie. “No? Just here to annoy Skitter.”

“He’s kinda cute,” Angel Dust said. “But not boy next door cute, if you know what I mean.”

Charlie didn’t want to know what he meant. “I was just curious about Khepri’s friend’s accommodations,” she said. “Having a safe place to stay, one that will encourage you to become a better, more wholesome person is very important.”

She was about to go on and talk about all the advantages of the Happy Hotel, but Khepri placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head minutely. “He’s a lost cause,” she said.

“Lost cause in what way?” Regent asked.

“Khepri,” Charlie reprimanded lightly. “No one is a lost cause. I’m certain that deep down in Regent’s heart is a rainbow just waiting to burst out and hug the world.”

“Yeah Regent,” Angel Dust asked as he came to stand right next to the puppet. “Is your inner rainbow ready to burst?” He pursed his lips and leaned forwards. “Or should I... help it along.”

“Skitter, did you bring me to some weird gay brothel? Because it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to me, but it’s definitely up there with the weirdest.”

“This is not a brothel.”

“Ehh,” Angel said with a so-so gesture. “It could be with a bit of cash and effort.”

“No,” Charlie said, putting her foot down. “There’s no sex here. Sex is, usually, a sin.”

“Are you and Vaggie married yet?” Khepri asked.

Charlie took her foot back. “That’s... something else,” she said, turning her face away to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. She cursed how she ended up with her father’s complexion. 

“Damn, Skitter, you made weird friends here. Keeping it up, huh?” Regent asked.

“I doubt she could keep anything up,” Angel Dust said.

The two boys snickered and bumped fists.

Khepri stared at her friend for a while. “Termites,” she said, her eyes never leaving his. 

Regent stiffened a little, all of his limbs clacking in place. “Hey now,” he said. “I thought you wanted to hang out for old time’s sake. Maybe rob a bank or something.”

“No. I am currently employed,” she said, making Charlie’s tummy feel all wiggly and warm. “I also don’t wish to return to my life of vice and evil. I want to be better.”

Regent sighed, a hand clattering against his face. “Oh no, you joined a cult, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t join a cult,” Khepri said.

“That’s what someone that joined a cult would say. It wasn’t the Fallen was it? Nah, you hated Endbringers. Was it the Social Justice Warriors? Please don’t tell me you’re one of those. You’re not going to start getting prissy if I say ‘cunt’ are you?” 

“Um, maybe we shouldn’t use that kind of language. It’s demeaning and rude,” she said.

All three of them sighed.

Regent spun on the spot, as though he’d been lifted by a great big hand and dropped back down. “How much for a room?” he asked.

“You want to stay?” Charlie asked.

“No. But someone needs to keep an eye on Skitter. And until Tattletale says something stupid to someone with a gun I’m the only one around.”

Charlie felt a glomp coming. Not a type one glomp. Those were for Vaggie and Vaggie only, and she was wearing too much besides. Not a type three, because those were forbidden according to her dad, but a proper type two glomp. “Oh, yes!” she said as she launched herself at him.

Regent’s eyes widened a half second before she collided with him. “No--” he began.

But it was too late, he was in her glomp zone.

Her chest crashed into his face and her arms wrapped around his head in a joyous meeting of happiness and... more joy.

Then Regent’s head popped off his shoulders, his legs broke off and his arms spun across the room. Charlie crashed to the ground, a screaming Regent head cradled in her arms. She started screaming too.

Khepri sighed, Angel Dust giggled, and Regent’s horrified look turned into a shit eating grin. “Hey, if you wanted me to stay just to play with my head, you could have asked.”

“Oh my lord Daddy I broke you,” Charlie said. She winced as she got back to her feet, Regent’s head still in both hands, and started looking around for all his bits. Fortunately, his clothes had managed to keep most of them in some place. 

“Ask the gay spider to stick me back together, he knows how to handle his wood.” Regent’s smile took on a predatory look. “Unless you’d rather do it yourself.”

Charlie was still deciding on how to act when Khepri swiped Regent’s head out of her arms and held it at head height. “No,” she said.

“No what?” Regent asked.

“Alec.” She stared at him even as the room darkened, the shadows lengthened and it suddenly seemed as if Khepri was a whole lot taller than she was a moment before. “You are a good friend,” she said in a voice that was made harmonic with the sound of bees and wasps and skittery things. “I would do a lot for you, but I also expect you to behave. Don’t, hurt, Charlie.”

He smiled at her, but it looked a little wooden. “Yeah, sure. So, could you turn me around to face the Princess?” Khepri obliged even as the room returned to normal with a snap of reality reasserting itself. “How much?” he asked.

“How much what?” Charlie asked.

Regent sighed. “Per night. This is a hotel, right?”

“Ah,” Charlie said. She thought on it. Then thought some more.

“Holy shit,” Angel Dust said. “Is this why you didn’t charge me? Are you one of those idiots that can’t put a price on things?”

“Shut up Angel,” Charlie pouted. “It’s not my fault I grew up in luxury.”

“Hey Skitter,” Regent said. “While you’re hanging onto my head, give me a massage. I feel a headache coming.”

“One... one hundred dollars!” Charlie declared.

“Charlie,” Khepri said, her voice a teeny bit softer than usual. “The cab here cost three times as much.”

“So... more then that?”

Regent glared. It was probably meant for Khepri, but she was still holding him. “Are you on my side or hers?” he asked.

“Hers,” Kepri answered immediately.

“Ten... thousand dollars?”

“I’ll give you three fifty and won’t bring any hookers over,” Regent said.

“Deal!” Charlie said. He didn’t say he wouldn’t join in on their therapy sessions. As soon as they were done putting Regent back together she started leading him up a floor so he could pick a room. Truly, life was going splendidly for Charlie.

***

A huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity! Also, shout-out to Sammax and CrazySith87 who helped with this one’s... thisness.


	14. Chapter 14

Lucky Chapter Thirteen

“You have a lot of stuff.”

Alec looked at the three dozen boxes stuffed in the back of the cab, then the absolutely infuriated look the cab driver was giving him, and shrugged. “A boy needs his toys,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s an actual saying,” she said as she looked at the boxes, head tilted to one side as if that would help her figure them all out.

“I said it, therefore it’s a saying,” he said as he stepped out of the cab. He flung a wad of bills at the driver. “Here you are, my Pakistani and-slash-or Indian friend,” he said.

“I’m English, you racist fuck,” the driver said.

“I don’t speak cab-driver,” he called over his shoulder as he started towards the Hotel. He pat Taylor on the shoulder. “Get all my shit to my room, yeah?”

Taylor looked at him with the blank bug eyes, then stared at the pile of boxes. “You won’t help?” she asked.

He snorted. “You’re the dumbass that took a job whose description is literally ‘kiss ass and carry shit.’ I, on the other hand, am a fine patron of this exquisite establishment. My ass is the one you should be kissing and my shit the shit you’ll carry.”

Taylor narrowed his eyes at him and started walking alongside him. He was about to question her, and the cab driver looked ready to step out and start yelling, when bugs poured out from under the car in a seething mass of writhing, living blackness. They enveloped the boxes, ignored the driver’s screaming, and soon started carrying them single file towards the front door.

“Neat,” he said as he stepped over the line of insects. “Will they make it up the stairs?” he asked.

“There’s an elevator,” she said.

“Yeah, but that means that I’ll have to walk up the stairs.”

She stared at him. “It’ll be good for you,” she said.

“Taylor, my legs are literally made of wood, as pretty and toned as they are they’re not about to get any better just from walking up a few flights of stairs,” he said as he scooted past the carpet of critters carrying his stuff and into the lobby. 

“Not with that attitude, woody,” a familiar voice said from off to the side.

Alec turned to find Angel Dust posing, back leaning against a pillar and legs stretched out beneath him. “Oh great, it’s hell’s gayest spider.”

“Thanks, I do appreciate your attempts at flattery,” Angel said as he pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over. “But I’ve heard better from better.”

“You’ve heard better from better?” Alec repeated. “That’s like the angsty teenaged girl version of ‘no you,’” he said. “Get better comebacks.”

“If I wanted my cum back,” Angel started.

Alec just laughed, cutting him off. “I grew up in a harem made entirely of women who spent all day sniping at each other, I’ve heard better than you can deliver, bug boy.” He shot past the infuriated spider whore and started up the stairs, Taylor keeping up with her unnaturally long legs. 

“Calling someone a bug is rather rude,” she said.

“You’re just saying that because you’re a bug too,” he pointed out.

There was a snort from behind them and Alec noticed Angel following them up the stairs. “She’s some sort of ant thing, I think,” he said. “Of course she’d be insulted, she’s the farthest thing from a proper, predatory insect like me there is.”

“The only kind of predator you are is a sexual one,” Alec shot back. Taylor was too dumb and socially inept to defend herself, so obviously it fell up his shoulders to take care of it. 

“You know it.” Angel winked.

Snorting, he continued climbing, cursing the number of steps they had to go up before they reached the floor with his room. At least, he reasoned as he pushed the door open, it was better than the shack he had found himself in until recently. And with the literal princess of Hell sticking around and Taylor being Taylor, his dad would properly fuck off for a bit.

“Home sweet home,” he said as he took in the room. 

There was a nice bed off to one corner, a dresser next to it and, off to one side, a small bathroom with a shower and toilet and so on. There was a little living room space and a small kitchenette that he planned on never using except to store beer and snacks. 

“Right, let’s unpack the important shit,” he said. The rest he was going to leave in their boxes forever.

“Ohh, fun!” Angel Dust said as he rushed to the pile of boxes and tore the top off the first one he reached. 

“Hey, I wasn’t asking you for help, itsy bitsy.”

“Fuck off, I’m bored. You coming here is the most interesting thing that’s happened all week and... oh, sweet merciless Lucifer, you’ve got video games,” Angel Dust said as he pulled out a handful of game boxes and held them up as if they were precious artefacts being unearthed by an archeologist.

“Yeah,” he agreed as he stole them out of the spider’s hands. “But they’re mostly shit. All I have are the full EA collection and Fallout 666, Microtransactions Edition.”

“Oh, that one’s shit,” Angel said. “But at least it’s not buggy.”

“It just works,” Alec said as he flung the box onto his couch. “That’s all it does. I’ve got Mario Party: Kill Your Friends Edition, and DOOM.”

“Old school DOOM or the Hell version?” Angel asked. “I don’t like the Hell version, all you do is run away then die.”

“Wanna split screen?” he asked as he pulled out his Stadia and placed it before the TV.

“You got a credit card on you to pay for the split screen fee?” Angel said as he pulled out a pair of controllers, vaulted over the back of the couch and plopped himself down. 

“Nah, I paid it already,” he said before taking on of the controllers for himself.

Angel Dust shook his head sadly. “You changed locations, you’ll need to call tech support to change your account info then repay the same fees again.”

“Isn’t there a way around that?” he asked.

“Yeah, if you pay for the quick tech support DLC,” Angel said.

“I did.”

“Yeah, but you changed locations,” he pointed out.

Alec glared at the consol, then turned to look at Taylor who was just standing there like a cheap imitation of one of those lawn-ornament flamingos, only less presentable. “Hey, Tay, if a bunch of weird assholes in SWAT uniforms show up, would you kindly murderize them for me? Or give us a heads up.”

“I... might,” she said.

“Sweet,” he replied before turning on the consol. “Let’s just pirate everything, if the DRM show up bug girl here will scare them off.”

Angel Dust shrugged, golden tooth on full display as he grinned. “It’s your hide.”

“Aren’t you going to finish unpacking?” Taylor asked.

“Nah, fuck that,” Alec said. “But if you want to organize my tighty-whities like my moms used to, feel free.”

A minute later the door clicked shut, unheard over the sound of chainsaws and explosions on screen. 

***

Short chapter is short. Just Alec joining the Hotel.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fourteen

“Welcome,” Charlie said, “To the Happy Hotel’s second weekly group therapy session!” 

Vaggie smiled. Khepri stared. Regent blinked dumbly. And, with effort that looked Herculean, Angel Dust raised two hands and then clapped once before letting them fall on his lap. 

Charlie shuffled har papers around, adjusted the lensless frames that were riding on the tip of her nose, and then took a good look at her notes. After the... not a disaster but nearly, of the last session, she had bought every single book on therapy available in Pentagram. After sorting out all of those that were really just torture, porn, or torture-porn manuals, she ended up with just one pamphlet’s worth of information. She hoped it would be enough.

“So, seeing as we have a brand new guest at the Happy Hotel I thought it would only be appropriate to have Regent introduce himself for us!” She beamed at Regent who didn’t look like he knew what was going on, which was fine, she didn’t know either. “Can you tell us a bit about yourself, your past, and your dreams for the future?”

“Yeah, but first,” he began, then his arm flopped out and, as if being pulled by strings, aimed right at Vaggie. “Who’s the monotone cyclops?”

“Jódete, you goddamned stack of kindling,” Vaggie growled as she moved to the edge of her seat.

Smile straining, Charlie reached out and held her girlfriend back. She knew that Vaggie wasn’t really that angry yet. Not really. Her girlfriend just had a bit of a hard time around jerkish boys. “Now now, Vaggie, I’m sure Regent didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” the puppet said as he ran a hand over his head and adjusted his crown. “I didn’t know you were Spanish.” He cleared his throat. “Quien es el cyclopie mono-tonoy?”

“Regent!” Charlie protested. 

Fortunately, Khepri decided to act as a proper concierge, even if she was wearing her old hoodie and skirt and not her uniform. She reached out with one long arm and bopped the puppet on the head. “Hey!” he protested.

“Regent... this is Vaggie, she’s my girlfriend and the manager of the Happy Hotel. Vaggie, this is Regent, our newest customer.”

“Pleasure,” Vaggie bit out.

“All mine, sweetheart.”

“So, now that we really do have the introductions out of the way,” Charlie began. She needed to get things back on track. Redemption wasn’t going to happen all on its own. “How about you tell us about yourself, Regent?”

The boy clattered back into his seat. “Fine. I was born in Canada to a psychotic serial rapist father with mind control powers. He taught me everything he knew about being a man. Then I died to a giant lizard who farted lightning in my general direction. Then it turns out that my kinda-girlfriend murdered my old man and that he’s out to get me even in Hell. So that’s neat. I guess. Oh, and I used to be in a gang with Khepri here.”

“You were in a gang?” Charlie asked Khepri. This was a No Judgement Zone, so she wasn’t going to pry too much, but Khepri didn’t seem the gangster sort.

“I joined in order to eventually betray them to the authorities,” Khepri said.

“Ah,” Charlie replied. That made no sense.

“She ended up taking over the city because the authorities weren’t doing a good enough job,” Regent said.

“Fucking hardcore, bug girl,” Angel Dust said. He reached out a hand for a fistbump. She reluctantly returned it.

“Right,” Charlie said before things could go off track. “So that tells us a lot about your past. What about your future?”

“Eh, I figure I’ll wait around here, mooch off of Khepri until she murders my dad to death, because that asshole does not know when to give up, and then I’ll wait for Imp to show up.”

“Imp?” Charlie asked.

“My sorta girlfriend. Hey, Taylor, did I ever tell you of our plans to let Brian catch us in the act?”

“I’d rather not hear about them,” Khepri said.

Charlie cleared her throat. “What about if your girlfriend goes to heaven, wouldn’t you rather be there to meet her?”

Regent blinked, then tilted his head way, way back and laughed. Even Khepri made a humming noise at the back of her throat. “There is no way, no way at all, that Aisha’s going to heaven. She could do a full one-eighty and go full Misses Rogers for the rest of her life and she’d still never make it in.”

Those were big words, Charlie knew. Mister Rogers was a sterling example of a good human. “Oh, okay, I guess,” she said.

“What about you, Princess?” Regent asked. “What’s with all the rehab shit? Did Daddy not spend enough time with you when you were a wee horny little demon.”

Charlie shook her head. “No, of course not, my dad loved me lots,” she said.

“Loved, huh,” he repeated. “So, why the past tense? Grew up to be a bit of a disappointment? Too much cuddling, not enough reaping the souls of the evil? Or was it something else?” He looked at her in a way that made Charlie deeply uncomfortable. “You don’t seem made out to doing the whole pitchfork and contract thing. Did daddy want a little boy to follow in his footsteps or did you rebel all on your own?”

“I, I didn’t rebel from daddy,” she said. “He just doesn’t think my goal is possible. But I’ll prove him wrong!” She clenched her fists over her lap. “I’ll prove all of them wrong.”

“Right,” Regent drawled. “So who are you trying to prove wrong here? Daddy and Mommy? She’s that bombshell in the painting by the lobby, right?”

“That’s my mom, yeah,” she said. “She’s the best mom ever. But she can be a little busy sometimes.”

“Oh no, absentee parents, how awful,” Regent said, his voice almost as flat as Khepri’s. “Truly you know everything there is to know about being a horrible person thanks to you immensely painful background.”

“You fucker!” Vaggie roared.

Charlie looked up from her hands in time to see her girlfriend rushing across the room, spear held poised to stab Regent in the chest.

The puppet’s eyes widened and actual fear appeared on his wooden expression as he tried to back up.

Then, with a smack like bone hitting concrete, the spear and Vaggie stopped mid-charge.

Khepri was now between the two, crouched low with one hand raised to hold the spear locked in place. “Let’s not kill each other, please.”

Vaggie tugged at the spear but it didn’t so much as budge. “Let go, Khepri. I’m only going to stab the hijo de puta.”

“I’m afraid that as the Hotel’s concierge I can’t allow that kind of violence on the premises.” Khepri said.

“Yeah, you go Tay,” Regent cheered.

Khepri’s head turned all the way around to fix Regent in place. “Keep causing trouble and insulting Charlie and my hand might slip.” She loosened her grip on the spear, just enough that it began to inch forwards under Vaggie’s weight.

“Shit, alright, alright, I’ll stop poking at Princess Daddy Issues.”

Khepri let go of the spear.

Vaggie yelped as she fell forwards and Regent screamed at a pitch that made Vaggie sound manly by comparison. 

The sharpened tip thudded into the sofa inches away from Regent’s head and wobbled there for a moment.

While everyone was busy staring, Khepri walked over to Regent and stood over him, a tall, dark figure despite the room’s brilliant lighting. “You’re a friend, Alec. I like you. I also think of Charlie as a friend, and Vaggie,” she began.

“What am I? A two bit whore?” Angel asked.

“Yes,” Khepri said. “Shut up.” Turning back to Regent she fixed him on the spot. “Do not cause trouble.”

“Yeah, alright. Got it. No trouble from me, no ma’am.” He sank back into his seat as if trying to hide from Khepri in the plushiness. 

Vaggie stood up, ran a hand through her hair, then pointed to her eye and back at Regent. “I have my eye on you, puppet boy.”

Regent grinned. “I’m sure you’re used to having eyes on you,” he began, then swallowed when the room darkened in time with Khepri’s scowl. “B-because you’re a very pretty young woman?” 

“Better,” Khepri said. She walked back to her seat and sat.

“Right,” Charlie said into the awkward silence that followed. She was happy, super happy even, that Khepri would step up for her like that, but she still felt as if her whole therapy session had been twisted up and was now kind of broken. “Okay, maybe we can put today’s session on hold,” she said.

“Oh, thank baby Jesus,” Angel sighed. 

“Please don’t insult my sorta-uncle like that,” Charlie said. “Anyway, I did have some other things to talk about before everyone left today. It’s about the Purge.”

Angel Dust perked up, but the other two seemed unphased. “You mentioned the Purge before,” Khepri said.

“Yeah, it’s when Exterminators come down from heaven and, well, exterminate a bunch of demons. There will be lots of them this year because of the number of new demons in hell,” Charlie said. “So the best thing to do is to just sit back and stay indoors.” She smiled. “I have monopoly, and scrabble, and I have an entire box of hot chocolate mix and milk from my friend Longshot. We can hide in the basement and chat all night long!”

Regent shrugged, the gesture soon copied by Angel Dust. Vaggie scooted a little closer to Charlie’s side. The problem was Khepri, she stared extra-hard at Charlie. “So we will just hide,” she said.

“Yup,” Charlie said, her smile getting a little strained. “Hide all night until the big mean Exterminators go away.”

Khepri frowned. “I don’t like the idea of letting an Endbringer-like threat just assault the city without trying to stop it.”

“Meh, let the angels have their fun,” Regent said. “As long as they leave me and my shit alone.”

“That’s the spirit,” Angel Dust said. “Hey Charlie, since this is a special occasion, can we hire a few hookers?”

“No.”

“Aww, but think about it, those poor hookers, all alone on the streets, trying to sell themselves to those big mean Exterminators and only getting speared for their troubles, and not in the fun way.”

Vaggie groaned the moment Charlie turned to her for guidance. “We won’t hire any hookers,” she said.

“Right,” Charlie agreed even as she pushed the thought of all those poor, redeemable hookers aside. “And we’re all going to stay inside, safe and sound.” The last she said while looking right at Khepri.

“My physical body won’t leave the hotel,” Khepri said.

That... was oddly specific, and she had the impression she should be a little worried about it, but she pushed it aside. “Brilliant! Well, this was an... interesting session! Next week’s will be much better, I’m sure.”

***

A huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Fifteen

There used to be a siren. Charlie could remember the way it would start to wail. A low keen, almost like a baby crying in the distance, then it would grow louder and louder until she felt as if her teeth would vibrate out of her skull. It was only the roaring explosions that drowned out the sounds of it, that and the pop of gunfire. 

But now there was no siren. It had annoyed her father so he tore it apart with the same casual ease with which someone might swat a fly.

She didn’t know if the silence in the streets, if the way most of Pentagram’s lights flicked off, was any better. 

Oh, there was still noise. Screams as demons saw the brilliant white forms of angels descending. Flashes as the braver or more foolish took potshots at them without knowing that doing so would only attract the Exterminator’s wrath.

There was even the distant noise of a raucous party near the eastern end of the city. Angry Ron always managed to survive his own Purge Day Bash even though the event took place outside and in the open and was never missed by the Exterminators. He would give out prizes to those that wrestled an angel and lived. 

“Charlie,” a soft voice spoke from behind her. 

She turned to see Vaggie, half hidden in the shadows by the doorway, her one good eye shining in the flashes of light from outside. 

“You should come back in. The windows... it’s not safe being up here. The others are all in the basement.”

Charlie smiled at Vaggie, her Vaggie, and nodded. “Okay,” she agreed. With one last look, she took in the falling Exterminators, each one a glowing form that radiated a soft white light, the kind of light that should have brought hope and joy and peace. 

The screams grew more intense as they began to land and their masks revealed faces twisted in a mockery of human emotion. The reapers had arrived. 

***

Khepri didn’t know exactly how to pin down the emotions in the Happy Hotel’s basement bunker. It certainly wasn’t all fun and games, though it wasn’t as tense as she thought it might be. Perhaps the anxiety she felt from the others had more to do with their impatience for the Purge to end than anything else. 

She could sympathize with that, at least. 

Regent was sprawled across a couch, arms and legs barely held together by thin cords between them as he strived to take up as much room on the couch as possible. She, on the other hand, was tucked up in the far corner of the same couch, legs together and hands on knees so that she took up as little room as possible. 

That’s how Angel Dust found them when he came down with a stack of cardboard boxes which he dropped on a coffee table. “So, you going to make room for me?” 

“Get your own couch, spiderboy,” Regent said. 

Khepri could have gotten up, but she didn’t want to. 

“And here I went through all the trouble of bringing a few decks of cards and some boardgames to pass the time. Least you could do is move a little.”

Surprisingly, Regent did start to move. With a groan of effort, he slowly raised one hand, the cords tied to his arm going taut until it lifted a foot off the couch. Then his middle-finger sprung up as if spring-loaded and pointed right in Angel’s direction. 

“Oh, fuck you,” Angel said with a snort. “Fine, fine, I’ll just stay on my knees.”

“A position you should be more familiar with,” Regent said.

Angel winked his way. “And wouldn’t you know it, woody. So, we going to play cards or what?” 

“No thanks,” Khepri said. 

Angel looked at Regent, but he just sighed and waved a hand dismissively. “Later. I’m wallowing in my regrets right now. I have, like, two of them, so it only happens once a year or so.”

“You really do need a therapist,” Angel said.

“Look who’s talking, you fucking reverse nympho.”

Angel Dust barked a laugh. “Alright,” he said as he flopped to the ground before the couch and used it as a headrest. He tilted his head way back to look up at Khepri. “So... wanna fuck?”

“No thanks,” she said before frowning. “I thought you were into men?”

“You’d do.”

Regent bent over double, limbs flopping around as he laughed.

They fist-bumped while Khepri contemplated hiding their bodies.

But she had better things to do. Closing her eyes, Khepri focused on her swarm. It was... different, now that she was dead and in Hell. No longer did she feel billions of insects, but rather a sort of sense that, if she wanted it, there could be bugs wherever she wanted them to be, she just had to will it so. 

They would come from the shadows, and as soon as they were real, they were hers to control, to see through their eyes and feel through their tiny bodies. She had never really pushed her range, never beyond what she could do while alive. It was large enough that she thought that seeing the angels and interacting with them would be possible, even from the basement, but she wanted more. 

The greater the distance, the safer the Hotel would be.

She focused on the darkness from which her bugs spawned, reached out with it as far as she could even as a slow trickle of flies, wasps, bees, spiders and more of her favourites crawled out of the shadows. 

Her senses hit a wall, a distance where things were getting complicated. Nearly three blocks away, if she had to guess. 

So she pushed, her will firming up, her focus fixed to a fine point, every ounce of metaphysical strength behind the effort of increasing her range.

It was like picking up a barrel full of water, only to learn that it was empty.

She reeled as her range shot out. One block, then two, then five. Shadows shifted across an entire corner of Pentagram, and her power was still pushing out, growing faster and faster. 

She gasped on the couch as a billion bugs became two, then a hundred, then a trillion. Uncountable eyes slid out of every darkened corner across the entirety of the city and she saw everything.

“Did you find your special button?” Angel Dust asked.

It was not the question she expected to hear after discovering omniscience. 

“No,” she said. “I’ve just figured out how to see everything.”

Angel Dust blinked and she saw it from a thousand directions. “O--kay.”

She nodded at his agreement and returned to focusing on everything she saw. 

The city was under siege. Thousands of brilliant forms diving down from the heavens with spears and swords and bows and arrows. They were angels, but unlike any she had seen before. There weren’t beautiful, benevolent agents of god, but cruel monstrosities with faces twisted in disgust and hate. 

She examined each of them in a heartbeat. There were no clear signs of rank, or any real insignia on their simple robes, but a few stood taller than the others. 

With a twist, millions of insects came together, forming a dozen clones of herself that, from the outside, looked just like her, red concierge uniform and all.

All of her looked at the largest angels, either in open areas of the city, or on the rooftops of skyscrapers or in the middle of streets. “Hello,” she said through twelve mouths.

Her clones were hit. Spears through the space where her heart would have been, swords slicing through her neck to little effect. The Exterminators didn’t hesitate to strike a second and third time.

“Could we talk?” she asked.

When the reply was more violence she started to get annoyed.

“I would really rather we be civilised about this.”

Some of the Exterminators started attacking faster to disperse her swarm clones, other backed up and she hoped they would be reasonable, but they just found things to throw at her. 

“Fine then. Hopefully you will be able to speak with your higher ups,” she said while ignoring the assaults against her clones. They were rather inefficient anyway. Even as they spoke, or rather as she tried to start a conversation, some of the lesser angels were scouring the streets, spearing through running demons or shooting them down from above.

Some demons fought back, of course. Gunshots filled the night and a few braver or more foolish ones ran into melee range. Abilities, both magical and mundane, were leveraged against the angels, but to little effect. They were tough. Shrugging off all but the most powerful of blows without notice, and even powerful hits hardly left a dent.

“You’re not actually alive, are you?” Khepri guessed. 

Something flashed in the eyes of the Angels facing her and they began to move faster, their attacks more precise and more devastating. Asphalt cracked with the passing of their swords and their spears rent the air with every blow.

It still wasn’t very efficient.

“Fine then.”

She blinked a few times to refocus on the basement room. Charlie and Vaggie were here now, both tucked into an armchair that hadn’t been there before. Vaggie was sitting with Charlie on her lap, arms around the shorter girl’s waist. 

Vaggie and Angel were arguing as he passed cards around, even Regent in on the game. Charlie, on the other hand, was looking right at her.

“Is everything okay, Khepri?” Charlie asked.

“It is now,” she replied easily. Now that she didn’t have to focus on making and maintaining clones of herself, she could let her swarm do what it did best. Across the city the Exterminators were being drowned in a deluge of bugs. “Just a little distracted.”

Charlie smiled. “Well, I’m glad you’re back with us. Did you want to play too? It’s poker. But not strip poker.”

“You’re no fun,” Angel Dust complained.

“Sure,” Khepri said. “I’d love that.”

“Hey, does that old thing work?” Regent asked as he flicked a thumb at a television collecting dust in a corner.

Charlie shrugged one shoulder. “I think so. Did you want it in your room?”

“Nah, just want some noise while we play, you know?” He said as he jiggled to his feet in a clatter of wood on wood. “C’mon Taylor, help me set this thing up.”

She wanted to argue, but it really wasn’t worth it. The two of them pulled part of a tarp off the top of the old cathode-ray television and hefted it together to bring it closer to the couches. Khepri only had to sting Angel Dust once as he tried to peek at her cards. 

It took a few minutes to set things up and plug everything in, but then, with a squeal and a hiss, the television hummed to life.

They were met with a screen full of static fuzz. “Oh, come on,” Regent growled as he started fiddling with the dials. The screen fizzled some more, then voices and music started to come through. “Ah, got ya.”

The image resolved to show two demons sitting behind a large desk, a logo reading 666 News behind them and a box floating to their left with images of demons melting alive. 

“Good afternoon, I’m Tom Trench.”

“And I’m Katie Killjoy. In today’s news, the purge has begun. Are you ready to die the final death?”

“Oh you know me, Katie, after this many years in showbizz I eagerly await my inevitable death by mass murdering angel.”

“I too look forward to seeing you dismembered, Tom.”

“Oh, you absolute bitch. As usual our dear hellish overlords are doing absolutely fuck all to keep us safe from the genocidal army of heaven. Let’s switch to the live feed to see some juicy action.”

The screen went dark for a blink before showing a view of Pentagram from what looked like a distant hill.

There were the giant forms of the angels, flying around with their weapons and occasionally spearing out at some passing demon. But they weren’t alone.

Tendrils of darkness were waving about like the tentacles of an elder god. When they neared an angel they would grasp onto the Exterminator and whip them around as if they were little more than toys. 

“Well Katie, it seems as if someone is doing something about the Angelic threat.”

“When you’re right, you’re right Tom. Let’s zoom in to see a little better.”

The screen went blurry until it focused on one angel whose face was turned into a frown. Millions of black blurs were swarming around it and avoiding its futile attempts to swat them aside. 

“It looks as if our new overlord of death and destruction has a bug theme going on, Katie. I for one have always loved insects.”

“I too love small, cute bugs Tom. I would never consider crushing any of them under my heel. Let’s hope that this new player remembers that we at channel 666 News love all sorts of insects.”

“And now Sports!” 

Regent, Angel Dust, Vaggie and Charlie all turned towards Khepri.

“They refused to talk,” she explained.

***

Woo! Another chapter down. 

By the by, I started a quest on SB/SV, if you want to check it out, follow this link: 

https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/love-crafted.814187/

As usual, a huge, huge thank-you to my Patreons. If it wasn’t for them nagging me for more content you would never see chapters this quickly.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Sixteen

“I’m not nervous,” Charlie said nervously.

Vaggie smiled at her girlfriend, trying her best to put as much reassurance as she could into the gesture. Charlie was truly the greatest girlfriend a girl like her could hope for, tender, kind, with the kind of optimism that just made everything around her better. But she was a rotten liar. “It’s okay to be nervous,” Vaggie said as she touched Charlie’s arm.

They were tucked in a corner of the studio, demons pushing trolleys and cameras not ten meters away. A few were glancing their way, but none were approaching them just yet. It was a small oasis of quiet in an otherwise busy mess of a place. “Okay, you remember what to say?” she asked as she reached up and straightened Charlie’s bowtie.

“Come on, Vaggie, I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this forever. I won’t forget,” Charlie said. Her big eyes melted Vaggie’s heart a little, but she pushed past that to give her girlfriend an ‘are you sure’ look.

“I can mouth any part that you forget, just look at me if you need it,” Vaggie said.

“Or I can have a bug whisper it in her ear.”

Vaggie turned to the other reason no one was fucking with them. Khepri stood exactly like she did a few days ago. She was still a tall, awkward bundle of bones, big eyes blinking slowly while her antenna wibbled and wobble around. She looked like a caricature, with her too thin legs sticking out of her pencil skirt and her little cap tilted way back to accommodate her antenna. And yet not one demon in the studio dared to approach her.

It was probably the stench of pure malice rolling off of her, the kind of subtle feeling that people like Charlie’s dad gave off just by standing there. That or the low, insectile buzz emanating from her shadow, a shadow that twitched and moved as if it was a sack filled with angry wasps.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Charlie said. “It’s no big deal. I just have to go up there and tell them what’s good for them! Maybe...” Charlie muttered, then her eyes widened. “Maybe I coul--”

“No,” Vaggie said, cutting her off mid-word. “No matter what you do, there will be no singing.”

“But Vaggie, you know I’m better at expressing myself through song. You love it when I serenade you.”

Urgh. Only Charlie would go and drop that kind of detail in front of their friends. Not that Khepri seemed to mind that much. She didn’t seem capable of feeling embarrassment. “No serenading anyone,” Vaggie warned.

“Fiiiine,” Charlie said, stretching out the word into a whine. “I’ll just have to rely on my impeccable improv skills then.” She stomped off towards the front of the studio where Katie Killjoy was puffing on a cigarette.

“She’ll be fine,” Khepri said from over her shoulder.

Vaggie looked away from Charlie for a moment to smile up at Khepri. “I hope so.”

Khepri blinked. “No, I meant that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen. I have bugs on the line and can cut the power in the studio at any time. Also, I could eat anyone here with my swarm if they try something.”

A few of the techies and audience members nearby had obviously overheard because they started backing away.

“Ah,” Vaggie said.

“They’re starting.” Khepri nodded towards the front of the studio where Katie Killjoy, Tom Trench and Charlie were sitting down next to each other behind the caster’s best.

Vaggie and Khepri both moved closer, a circle opening up around them as demons inched away.

“I’m Katie Killjoy.”

“And I’m Tom Trench.”

Katie smiled at the camera, eyes filled with malice locking onto the nearest one. “Today we have a vivid interview with Hell’s own Princess, Charlotte.”

“It’s Charlie,” Charlie point out.

“Uh huh. So, Charlotte, what can you tell us about the massive angel-eating swarms of death bugs coming from that cute little failure of a hotel you work at?” Katie tilted her head to one side until it snapped.

“Actually, I was here to talk about the hotel more than anything. It’s a passion project I’m super excited to present to people.”

“That’s nice, but no one cares. Tell us more about the bugs.”

Vaggie felt her nails digging into her palm. She wanted to fling a knife into the pompous windbag’s face and see how she liked that for news, but that would ruin whatever credibility the hotel had, and that credibility was already strained by Khepri’s little show the night before.

Sure, it was all for a good cause, insofar as pissing off the angels and distracting them all night was a good cause, but it still gave the hotel a reputation it didn’t need. A forgivable one, as far as Charlie was concerned, but still.

Knifing a newscaster on live television, on the other hand, would not be quite as excusable.

Still tempting though.

“The bugs? Well, that’s Khepri’s doing,” Charlie said. “She’s an employee at the Happy Hotel, our concierge actually. The, um, angels were making a lot of noise, and bothering our clients, so she got rid of them.” Charlie’s smile was a little strained. “At the Happy Hotel, our client’s comfort is paramount.”

“How cute,” Katie said. “So why did such an obviously talented demon join the likes of you?”

“She’s in the studio, you know,” Charlie said. “I’m sure she could give you an in-depth interview after I’m done with my pitch.” Her eyes twitched a little and the temperature in their corner of the room rose by a few notches.

It wasn’t the only thing getting hot and bothered. Vaggie grabbed the front of her shirt and waved it a little to get some air.

“Of course, please go on,” Tom Trench said, earning a glare from his co-host.

“Thank you, Tom!” Charlie said before looking right at the nearest camera. “As some of you know, I was born in Hell, raised here even, and as Hell’s Princess, it’s my responsibility to make sure that my people are as safe and comfortable as I can make them. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve failed you. Every year the Purges arrive and every year we lose so many demons. So I asked myself, what if there was a way to keep all of you safe? What if there was a way to reduce Purge casualties, not through death, but by some other means. And so I introduced the Happy Hotel! A place where any demon can come and find redemption! Everyone is welcome, everyone is accepted.”

“What an idiot,” the camerademon muttered.

Vaggie slugged him in the side of the head, then gave Charlie a thumbs up when she looked their way. Even Khepri raised a hand, thumb up and arm swinging like the flag on a mailbox.

Charlie’s smile softened. “I don’t think I’m getting my message across as well as I want. Maybe a song would help?”

“Oh no,” Vaggie said in time with Khepri.

Fortunately, they were saved when Katie shoved Charlie out of her seat and to the floor, two fingers touching the side of her ear as if she was hearing something. “Nevermind that. Breaking news!” A screen appeared behind her, showing live footage of a fight in progress. An airship was firing missiles that tore apart random buildings.

“It seems that there’s a hot battle going on in the West side, two Demons vying for control of the area in a battle of the ages,” Tom said. “Intrepid tinker Sir Pentious and bombastic punk Cherri Bomb are duking it out for control of the mean streets of Pentagram, collateral damage be damned.”

“And it seems that Cherri Bomb is not alone. She’s joined by none other than Pentagram’s favourite porn star Angel Dust,” Katie said with a vicious smile.

“Oh no, Angel,” Charlie said as she looked into one of the screens showing the fight.

It did look pretty bad, the tiny figure of Angel side by side with Regent, both of then unloading tommy guns into an army of little eggs while a madwoman flung grenades into the chaos. Vaggie was going to kill them. All of them.

“You know Angel Dust?” Tom asked Charlie from across the desk. “Did you film anything with him?.”

“He’s... he’s a customer of the hotel,” Charlie said as she sank into her seat.

“Wow, redemption indeed. So you don’t only look like a failure, you are one too,” Katie said. “Tell us, how does it feel to be shit in front of so many people? Maybe if you ask your concierge for help she can mess it all up for you instead?”

Vaggie was one word away from stomping over to Katie and tearing the smug bitch’s head off, even Khepri looked tense.

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, came a warcry that sounded across the room.

“Don’t insult Taylor, you fucking cunt!”

A redheaded harpy flew across the studio, slid across the desk on her rear, and slapped Katie across the face so hard the newcaster’s head snapped halfway around.

Katie stood, reached up, and snapped her head back into place with a crackle of bone grinding against bone. For a long moment that was the only sound in the studio. “You’re fired,” she told the harpy even as shadowy, clawed limbs tore of out her back. “Which means you’re no longer covered by HR; get over here, you chicken bitch!”

Things turned chaotic rather quickly after that.

***

There was a small crowd gathered before the shop, eyes fixed on the two dozen televisions for sale though a thick pane of glass. The sound of the broadcast was muffled, but every time someone opened the door it would get loud enough that they could all hear.

Not that the audience needed sound.

A chair flew across the screen, followed by an on-fire Tom Trench. Charlie, the Princess of Hell herself, was beating a monotone man into the ground with a table leg and there were swarms of bugs flying everywhere, some of them on fire.

There was still a box superimposed on the screen with live footage of a battle on the Westside of Pentagram, the image forgotten in the kurfuffle.

A man stood at the back of the crowd, taller than the rest and with his arms folded in the small of his back.

He wore a smile.

***

A surprisingly short chapter. Short but busy. I don’t want to rethread canon too much, but some butterflies need to be explained. Also, it wouldn’t do to just... skip past some of these events.

As usual, a huge, huge thank-you to my Patreons. If it wasn’t for them nagging me for more content you would never see chapters this quickly.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Seventeen

The limousine rumbled over pockmarked streets, occasionally jostling and shaking as it took a hole from the wrong angle and sent all of the occupants within bouncing.

Charlie hardly noticed. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her head leaning against the doorframe so that she could gaze on the passing city with eyes that took in nothing.

“I’m disappointed in all of you,” Vaggie said from where she sat right next to her. “That was an absolute disaster. It’s a miracle if anyone will ever show up at the Happy again.”

Charlie sank into herself a little more.

“Meh, can’t be that bad. Back in the day we literally robbed a bank and sorta helped kidnap a kid and folks still thought we were the better option,” Regent said. He was sprawled onto the front-most seat of the limo, limbs splayed out every which way as he was wont to do.

Angel Dust shoved one of his legs away. “Yeah, all we did was go out to help a friend in need. Isn’t that exactly what your therapy is all about.”

“Mister Rogers would have approved,” Regent added.

“Mister Rogers,” Vaggie seethed. “Wouldn’t have participated in a gunfight in the middle of the slums!”

“How would you know that?” Angel asked. “Did you ever meet the man? Serious question, I wanna find out what’s under that sweater vest of his.”

“Did you just imply that you’d try to get it on with Mister Rogers?” Regent asked, sounding honestly bewildered. It was enough for Charlie to look up and pay attention for a moment.

“Just saying that I’d be the best neighbour he ever had, if you catch my drift,” Angel said with a wink.

“How do you even know about children’s TV shows?” Khepri asked. It was the first thing she said since squeezing into the limo at studio.

“Some big wig sends Imps to the surface to steal bootleg copies of shows. I have every season of Baywatch on VHS.”

Vaggie’s growl cut across whatever they were going to say next. “Can any of you just...” She gestured wildly in the air, hands bending into claws as if to grip onto her own aggression. “Behave for one fucking hour?”

“You’re asking a lot,” Regent said, then he screeched as a knife thudded into his forehead with a wooden ‘klunk.’ “Ouch, fuck! I was just being a smart ass, no need to go all homicidal on me.”

Charlie sighed. The sound should have been quiet, unnoticed even in the back of the limo with all the others being as busy and loud as they were, but by some fluke of bad timing everyone heard.

The car rumbled on quietly for a while, Regent and Angel Dust meeting each other’s eyes then shrugging, Khepri focused on the floor before her and Vaggie tried to reassure Charlie with a sidelong hug. The latter worked, but not as well as it could have. “Are you okay?” Vaggie asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m fine,” Charlie said. “Just... tired. Today was tiring.”

“It might not be all bad,” Khepri said, her flat tone barely more than a whisper. “People are attracted to conflict. News of the Happy Hotel will spread. We might have more troublesome clients in the near future than we would otherwise, but we can work out which ones are salvageable and which are not.”

“And who will judge them?” Charlie asked. “You?”

She winced as soon as the word was out. It sounded far too much like an accusation, and while some of her bad mood could be laid at Khepri’s feet, most of it couldn’t. It was, in the end, more her own fault that anything else. She was the one with the wild, impossible ambitions.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No, you may be right,” Khepri said. “While I have certain advantages when it comes to judging people, I have made mistakes in the past that lead me to believe that my own judgement should be questioned more often.”

“Like when you thought a gang of supervillains were pretty chill?” Regent asked. There was teasing there, but it was friendly; self-deprecating almost.

“Exactly.”

“No, no I trust you,” Charlie said. “I’m sorry about... everything. I wish things would work out, but the more I think about it, the more we move forwards, the less I feel as if they will.”

“We’ll make things work out, whether things want to or not,” Khepri said.

“Ah, shit, she’s going full zealot on us,” Regent said.

“She do that often?”

“I heard that last time she killed a god because he didn’t do what she asked,” Regent confided in a whisper everyone heard.

“Scion wasn’t a god,” Khepri corrected. She turned towards Charlie. “If you need proof, I will do my best to make it so that the next person that asks to join the Happy Hotel is unlike either of these two.”

“Hey!” came the response from both boys.

Charlie smiled a little. It was easy to forget, when her mood was down, that she had such good friends. Vaggie noticed the lift in her mood and used it as an excuse to snuggle closer. She had to remember that she had more than just friends too, but Vaggie had been there for a while, an always underappreciated pillar. “Thanks Khepri,” she said. “I’ll let you handle the next people that show up, okay?”

“Of course.”

The limo slowed down and when she looked out of the window again it was to see the hotel approaching fast. Everything seemed normal until she noticed a bundle laying on the ground by the front steps of the hotel. “Khepri, what’s that?” she asked, one finger pointing at the pile.

“Stop the limo,” Khepri ordered, her voice buzzing from every corner and nock. The goat bois were quick to slam on the breaks. With jerky motions that would have been called graceful if they didn’t come with so many joint-cracking noises and the impression that Khepri’s limbs were bending in too many directions, the concierge scuttled over to the door next to Vaggie and pushed it open, unfolding herself even as she stepped out of it and straightened her uniform.

“That was almost hot,” Angel Dust said. A wasp landed on his nose and he shrugged. “I’m a spider demon, I think multi limbed flexible folks are hot and I’m not taking it back,” he told the bug perched on his face.

“Braver than I am,” Regent said as he started to scamper towards the door.

Everyone watched as Khepri stared at the pile of rags near the doorway, her head tilting way down to one side.

“Think it’s a bomb?” Regent asked.

“Unless it has exterminator weapon shrapnel it wouldn’t be very useful,” Vaggie muttered.

“Think it’s a bomb with exterminator weapon shrapnel?” Regent asked.

Everyone ducked a little lower in the limo.

With stuttering steps, Khepri approached the pile, then stopped a dozen meters away. “Loitering is forbidden near and around the Happy Hotel,” she informed the pile in a monotone.

“Taylor?” the pile asked before it unfolded itself and stood up. The demon, because it was clearly someone and not something, was a tall and lithe harpy, red feathers and hair plastered to torn and burned clothes as if she had just been tossed through a firestorm.

“Oh shit,” Regent said.

“You know her?” Charlie asked.

“No, but I’m not retarded. Someone that knows Taytay and looks like shit showing up at our door step? Hundred bucks it’s trouble.”

The harpy stumbled forwards and it was obvious that she was in as bad a shape as she looked. Her long, taloned feet scratching the pavement as they searched for purchase.

Khepri took a step back and Charlie couldn't quite find it in herself to blame her. She didn’t like strange... strangers in her bubble either.

The harpy made a sound, halfway between a chicken's croak and a sob. "Taylor, please, no," she said. “I need you, please.”

It was pretty obvious that whatever she was it wasn't a threat to anything but Khepri's comfort. She pushed the door open and stepped out to circle around the limo, Vaggie and the boys scrambling out behind her, Vaggie to stay close by her side and the boys probably because they didn't want to miss the show.

"Can we help you?" she asked the harpy girl.

The demon looked towards Charlie then refocused on Khepri. "Please Taylor, please."

"Should we drag her off the lot?" Khepri asked Charlie.

"Khepri!" Charlie said. "She's obviously hurt. And she knows you. She might be a friend that needs help."

“Friend!” the harpy repeated. “That’s right, we were friends once.”

The words seemed to spark something in Khepri. She moved a little, just a tiny motion away from the girl, but coming from her she might as well have done an interpretive dance. “I think there are trash bins in the back that she could fit in,” she added.

“Taylor, it’s me, it’s Emma. And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

The bird collapsed to the ground, letting out wailing, cawwing sobs that rang out across the entire parking lot before the Happy.

“Holy shit,” Regent said. “Shove a bug in her mouth, or get one of Angel’s gags down here and stuff it in her beak, she sounds like a helium fueled Endbring siren.”

Khepri took another step back, then paused to straighten the front of her uniform and adjust her cap between her antenna. “You will recall what I said earlier about taking care of anyone that shows up at the hotel? I’m making an exception for this one.”

“Khepri,” Charlie admonished. She moved towards the harpy, Emma, and got to one knee next to her. It wasn’t as if her suit pants could get any dirtier. “Hey, are you okay?”

“No,” Emma said. “I’m a terrible person. Taylor’s right. Put me in the trash. It’s where I belong.”

“If she wants to be put there, who am I to do anything but assist her?” Khepri asked.

Charlie shot her a look and got a blank face back in response. “She needs help,” she said.

“There aren’t enough therapists in Hell to fix her,” Khepri said.

Charlie huffed, standing up to her full height. She might have been a little down earlier, what with her dream being spat on by so many people, but she was still a princess of hell, she still had a backbone as tough as anyone’s. “Khepri, this isn’t like you. You’re as invested in redemption as anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Not for her,” she said.

“You have history,” Charlie said, just to air out the obvious. “Is it enough that you’d stop Emma here from being redeemed?”

“Emma is the reason I’m in Hell,” Khepri said. Somehow, her emotionless monotone made the words so much more poignant than they should, by all rights, have been.

Charlie nodded and ignored the continued wails from the harpy on the ground next to her. “All the more reason to get her to help you resolve your issues. After we’ve fixed her. It could be like... buddy therapy. But without the buddy part.”

“She doesn’t look like she has any money to afford a room,” Khepri pointed out.

Charlie huffed. “You’re not paying for a room either missy,” she said, a finger coming up to waggle in Khepri’s direction. “She could work.”

“Destroying people’s lives isn’t a job,” Khepri said.

“I can clean!” Emma squeaked.

“She can clean,” Charlie repeated.

“There are a lot of chimneys that need dusting...” Khepri began, then she shook her head. “That’s not punishment enough.”

“We’re talking about a job, not about punishment,” Charlie said.

Regent coughed. “We do need someone to do the cleaning. My clothes have got the stink and my clean-clothes chair can actually be sat on it’s so empty.”

“Yeah, my bedsheets are getting crusty, if you know what I mean,” Angel added.

Khepri buzzed, literally shivered on the spot with a low humm before she turned towards the front of the hotel and walked off with stuttering steps. “Fine,” she said. “She can stay as long as I don’t need to interact with her. But I will be watching.”

Charlie grinned and bent back down to help Emma to her feet. This was a victory! Emma would become a nice person, and through her, Khepri would find peace and redemption! It was foolproof.

***

Oh boy.

As usual, a huge, huge thank-you to my Patreons. If it wasn’t for them nagging me for more content you would never see chapters this quickly.


	19. Chapter 19

Emma curled in on herself, her feathery wings across her knees and her head bowed so that her hair fell across her eyes. She knew that it didn’t actually stop Taylor from knowing that she was staring, but it did act as a barrier or sorts between her and... and the demon Taylor had become.  
  
A demon she became even though she used to be the kindest, sweetest girl whose only sin was trusting too much and being too damned hard to put down.  
  
Her memories of Taylor were fragmented in threes. There was the young, happy Taylor from when they were young. A motormouth that could babble on for hours until she tripped into a book and suddenly the world didn’t matter because she was stuck in an adventure between two covers. And when she dove out she would have all sorts of new ideas and characters to babble on about. She had been the greatest friend someone could ask for.  
  
Then there was the Taylor that Emma had destroyed. Or thought she had destroyed. The Taylor that walked with her back hunched and her entire body folding in on itself as if the weight of the world were pressing down on her back with every step. A Taylor that flinched at the mere sight of Emma. One that ate alone in bathroom stalls and who gave up on even trying to fight back. She had been a girl that deserved only pity.  
  
And then there was the last Taylor Emma had ever known, though this one only from afar. The monster of the Bay, the warlord. A household name spoken of in whispers and rumours. The girl who killed Alexandria, who witnessed Behemoth’s death firsthand, who tore into Earth Bet’s worse monsters like a scythe through weath.  
  
She died without really knowing what happened to Taylor, but that was moot now. Taylor was here, in the lobby of the Happy Hotel, a towering, brooding presence that pretended not to see her curled up on a couch in the corner.  
  
Not that Emma deserved to be noticed.  
  
She had broken Taylor, so she deserved to pay, to do everything she could to make Taylor feel good again, even if that joy only came from witnessing Emma suffer.  
  
“I... you said that there were chimneys to clean?” she asked.  
  
There were two boys sitting at the far end of the couch, both chomping down on popsicles while mocking the models in a trashy magazine. “Huh?” One of them asked. He was the spider-y one, Angel Dust. “What’s that birdy?”  
  
“I... I can’t just lay here. I should start working.” She began to rise, then stopped, the figurative chicken spotting the hawk as she noticed Taylor’s many-faceted eyes looking her way. She couldn’t stay stuck mid-motion forever though, so she slowly stood back up. “Where, um, where do I start?” she asked.  
  
Angel Dust and the other boy, Regent, shared a look. “Fuck if I know,” he finally said. “Ask Khepri. I just sleep here.”  
  
“Pretty sure this isn’t the only place you sleep at,” Regent said. It was enough to spark a friendly argument between the two, insults and banter flying back and forth like fencers trying to skewer each other.  
  
Emme looked towards Taylor, Khepri, who was slowly reading through a ledger that seemed mostly empty, then she glanced away. It was probably better to ask the Princess.  
  
Charlie wasn’t hard to find. She was a little ways down a corridor, back pressed to the wall and a hand, Vaggie’s hand, shoving her back so that she couldn’t move. The blush across her features and the way her own hands were resting on Vaggie’s hips suggested that it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable.  
  
“Ah, um, I’ll just...” she began before starting to turn.  
  
“Oh, Vaggie, wait,” Charlie said. “Did you need anything, Emma?”  
  
Emma paused. She had already interrupted something. “I just... do you know where the cleaning supplies are? I might as well start now.”  
  
“Ah, right,” Charlie said. “I think there’s a mop and broom in the cupboard under the staircase, and there are things in that little room next to the bathrooms one floor up. If you’re missing things just make a list and I’ll have the goat bois go buy it. Ah, you might want to ask Khepri about any other cleaning supplies we already have.  
  
Emma winced. “I would but... she doesn’t like me. At all. And it’s my fault so I don’t want to make things worse.”  
  
“Oh.” Charlie and Vaggie shared a look. “Maybe you can just relax, take things slow for today?” she asked.  
  
“N-no, I want to do things, to be useful. Please?”  
  
“Of course. In that case maybe start dusting the top floor and work your way down? We have a lot... lots of empty rooms.”  
  
“I can do that.” She tried a smile, and even if it was a little rough around the edges at least she knew it was genuine.  
  
Emma bowed out of the corridor, leaving the two to whatever they had been up to before, all the while hoping that she wouldn’t be the one that had to clean up after their mess. She was probably not that lucky. Not that she deserved any luck.  
  
She felt Taylor’s eyes on her as she passed through the lobby again, but the taller, far more imposing girl turned towards the front door a moment before a knock sounded, a knock hard enough to shake the entire lobby.  
  
“The fuck?” Angel Dust asked as he popped his popsicle out of his mouth.  
  
Taylor started towards the front door and opened it as if she already knew what she would find. There was some nodding, and an indistinct voice from outside before she muttered some peasantry, closed the door, and backed away towards where Charlie and Vaggie were waiting.  
  
“There’s a man calling himself Alastor waiting outside,” Taylor said, her voice a flat monotone. “He seems suspicious.”  
  
“Oh shit,” Vaggie said.  
  
That was enough to get everyone’s attention, even the two boys looking up from their fun to see what was going on.  
  
“The Radio Demon?” Charlie asked.  
  
Taylor’s shoulders hiked up and down in a janky motion. “Possibly. His voice did sound... off.”  
  
Emma was not going to point out that Taylor’s own voice sounded like it was coming from a million bored insects. She was trying to get better after all.  
  
“Ah, let me go see him,” Charlie said.  
  
Taylor followed the Princess to the front door, a tall, ominous shadow that hung over her shoulder as she cracked open the entrance door.  
  
“Hello,” Charlie said. She crossed her arms and leaned back a little. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Emma moved a little closer to get a better look at the Radio Demon, though what she could see of him past the others didn’t tell her much. He was tall, with lithe features and a striped suit that only made him look taller. His smile was striking, huge, with glittering teeth that stretched across his entire face. “Why hello there! I was just ambling on by, completely and utterly bored out of my mind, when I noticed this fine establishment of yours and decided to come and take a quick gander.”  
  
“That is a lie,” Taylor said. “He moved from the centre of the city to the Hotel on a direct course.”  
  
“Oh, but my dear insectile friend, you’re assuming that I was walking down a mere path! No no no, I meant that I was skipping along the road of unlife, enjoying the twists and turns of faith, when suddenly I found myself on a straight path with nothing to see and do. Quite devastatingly dull. And then this wonderful pothole of a hotel presented itself to me.” He raised his cane and lovingly ran a hand along its back. “So I said to myself. _‘Alastor, my friend, my pal, myself, why don’t you take a bit of a detour, hop on down that rabbit hole and see what fun is to be had!’_”  
  
Charlie slammed the door shut. “He’s insane.”  
  
“Yes,” Taylor agreed. “Shall I eat him?”  
  
Vaggie moved in, arms waving about in a panic. “No, let’s not anger the scary demon lord by trying to eat him, please. I don’t know how much of a match for you he’d be, but he’s a big name, a heavy hitter. If you two start fighting there won’t be a Happy Hotel by tomorrow morning, just a big crater.”  
  
Taylor stared at Vaggie, then looked towards the closed door. “I could take him.”  
  
“Vaggie’s right. No trying to kill the nice scary demon. We’ll just... get him to tell us why he’s here, then politely tell him to go away. Politely. With sprinkles on top.”  
  
“If you say so,” Taylor said. Even her swarm didn’t seem so sure, the way they buzzed around.  
  
Charlie adjusted her shirt, ran a hand through her hair and opened the door again. “Uh, hi!”  
  
“We meet again! My, it feels like I’ve been waiting here and eavesdropping on your little conversation for hours! _Haha!_” He grabbed Charlie by the wrist, shaking it, and her, up and down before he slipped past her and moved into the foyer. “Pardon my sudden interruption, but I saw your announcement on the picture show before the entire thing went up in flames... literally! Hahaha!”  
  
Taylor stepped forwards, one arm folded before her waist, the other at the small of her back. Her posture had her standing tall and straight, enough that she could meet Alastor’s eyes without having to look up. “You are not yet a guest at the Happy Hotel. Please state your business and leave. Or you will be made to leave.”  
  
Alastor’s grin only grew. He planted his cane next to him and adjusted his ascot with both hands. It gave Charlie time to scoot out from behind him and over to just a few steps behind Taylor. “Very well then! I am here because I want to help!”  
  
Charlie and Vaggie stared at each other. “Huh?”  
  
“Your financial assistance would be welcome,” Taylor said. “Please leave any cheques in the mailbox outside. Have a wonderful day.” the door slammed open behind Alastor. Taylor gestured at it with an open palm.  
  
“Miss Khepri, I almost feel as if you don’t want my assistance?” Alastor said, his head tilting to one side. The world around her scrambled and warped, like a television tuned to an off channel. A static fuzz filled the air and Emma felt herself being pressed down.  
  
Taylor’s eyes narrowed a tiny bit. The room started to buzz and chitter and things started moving through the walls and under the carpets as if billions of cockroaches were just itching to come out and swarm the entire room. “It is my duty,” Taylor said without so much as moving her lips. The sound was horrid, like every creepy-crawly in the world was holding back red-hot anger. “To keep the Happy Hotel in _proper working order_. **_Any _**disruption in its operations would be viewed as an... assault.”  
  
Charlie stepped up between the two of them, hands raised as if to keep them apart even though neither Taylor nor Alastor had moved from where they stood the entire time. “Okay, okay, enough with the pissing contest. You’re both very scary and powerful demons. Khepri, sweetie, Alastor hasn’t don’t anything but be weird yet. Alastor, pull any sort of shit and I’ll let Khepri eat you.”  
  
Alastor chuckled and backed up a step before sweeping into a bow. “I wouldn’t want to intrude upon another’s domain. Oh, but I do so desire to help you now. You are the most interesting bunch I have laid eyes upon in decades!” He spun around and gestured grandly. “Look at you. Misfits and outcasts and princesses and failures. An ensemble cast of terrible actors just waiting for the fuse to be lit. It’s explosive entertainment. I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world!” He turned his smile onto Charlie and she took a small step back. “Now, dearest princess, let’s talk _**business.**_”


End file.
